M 


NO. 


STER 
ATIVE 

413 


MICROFILMED  1993 
COLUMBIA  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARIES/NEW  YORK 


as  part  of  the 
"Foundations  of  Western  Civilization  Preservation  Project" 


Funded  by  the 
NATIONAL  ENDOWMENT  FOR  THE  HUMANITIES 


Reproductions  may  not  be  made  without  permission  from 

Columbia  University  Library 


COPYRIGHT  S  i  ATEMENT 


The  copyright  law  of  the  United  States  -  Title  17,  United 
States  Code  -  concerns  the  making  of  photocopies  or 

other  reproductions  of  copyrighted  material. 

Under  certain  conditions  specified  in  the  law.  libraries  and 

archives  are  authorized  to  furnish  a  photocopy  or  other 
reproduction.  One  of  these  specified  conditions  is  that  the 
photocopy  or  other  reproduction  is  not  to  be  'used  for  any 
purpose  other  than  private  study,  scholarship,  or 
research."  If  a  user  makes  a  request  for,  or  later  uses,  a 
photocopy  or  reproduction  for  purposes  in  excess  of  "fair 
use/'  that  user  may  be  liable  for  copv '^ght  mfringemen^ 

This  institution  reserves  the  right  to  refuse  to  accept  a 
copy  order  if.  In  its  judgement,  fulfillment  of  the  order 
would  involve  violation  of  the  copyright  law. 


AUTHOR: 


GOETHE,  JOHANN 
WOLFGANG  VON 


TITLE: 


FAUST,  A  TRAGEDY 


A  .L^/\  C^,--  i.lj  • 


BOSTON 


DATE: 


1864 


COLUMBIA  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARIES 
PRESERVATION  DEPARTMENT 


Master  Negative  # 


BIBLIOGRAPHIC  MICROFORM  TARGET 


Original  Material  as  Filmed  -  Existing  Bibliographic  Record 


r    ^" 


G07 
B79 


Restrictions  on  Use: 


Faust,  I, 

Goethe,  Johann  VVolfgang  von,  1749-1832. 

Faust,  a  tragedy;  translated  from  the  German 
of  Goethe,  with  notes  by  Charles  T.  Brooks. 
Fourth  edition.   Boston,  Ticknor,  1864, 

234  p. 


.  J 


TECHNICAL  MICROFORM  DATA 


FILM     SIZE:_3_^rfWA. 
IMAGE  PLACEMENT:    lA 

DATE      FILMED: 

HLMEDBY:    RESEARCH  PUBLI 


REDUCTION     RATIO; 
IIB 

g3__     INITIALS_/lJ^_: 

IONS.  INC  WOODBRIDGE.  CT 


,/.4 


r 

Association  for  information  and  Image  Management 

1100  Wayne  Avenue,  Suite  1100 
Silver  Spring,  Maryland  20910 

301/587-8202 


Centimeter 

1         2         3        4         5         6         7 

liiiiliiiiliiM|m||j|iil|iiii|iiil|i'il[iiilm 


TTT 


llllllllllljlllllllllllllllllllllllllll 


TTT 


8 


Inches 


1 


1.0 


1.25 


ILJ 


10       11 

iiiiliiiillll 


1^  III  2.8 

2.5 

-50      '"1  =^=           11111= 

i^yi 

2.2 

|A3 

IS        i^ 

2.0 

i;. 

»i  u 

b;bu 

1.8 

1.4 

1.6 

12       13 

iiiiliiiiliillll 


T|    I 

5 


14        15    mm 

lllllllllllll 


MfiNUFfiCTURED    TO   flllM   STRNDRRDS 
BY    RPPLIED    IMRGE,     INC. 


U 


l|i^ 


11 

Wtm 

M,; 

i  ^^B 

1 

1 

£^ 

Hi 

>;t-*5» 


" 

-!iLW 

^pniiii 

^H^4*^E 

1 

B 

1 

?ctiiM-?*i.iT^ifi 


ri..S^:i:i[.\.  ! 


iliiif 


t*t?-:tgii  >.i{t 


mm 

1 

"'.'• '  ^'r3Wi 

-J:  :  ^  ij£.;iif 

^; 

; 

., 

Igl«  ^^ 

ii 

MI'S  ^^a  ^3 

■ 

His  ^bS 

(a 

1 

^WK^ 

i 

i;f'; 

i!!t-,'-  - 

.t^ 


THE  LIBRARIES 


•N»r   nr 


nr ;  rv 


/  / 


.^ 


/\yr  ^  ff\A 


FAUST 


A    TRAGEDY 


TRANSLATED     FROM    THE    GERMAN 


OF 


GOETHE 


WITH   NOTES 


BY 


CHARLES    T    BROOKS 


SIXTH    EDITION 


.     .        BOSTON .    ^ 
TICKrNQR    A>U.B!EXDS 

MUC(  CLXVI. 


rv  f> 


7 


0 


TRANSLATOR'S   PREFACE. 


o^^^oi^m^ 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  In  the  year  1856, 

by  Charles  T.  Brooks, 
In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the   District 

of  Rhode  Island. 


From  the  Iibraby  of 
Henry  S.  and  Ji:iiana  Haskel!. 

1948 


University    Press: 
WELck,    BiGii:©^*,  ;ah'd   Company, 


•      ^     •    /   <    .        • 
•  •       »     • .  «       1 


Perhaps  some  apology  ought  to  be  given 
to  English  scholars,  that  is,  those  who  do 
not  know  German,  (to  those,  at  least,  who 
do  not  know  what  sort  of  a  thing  Faust  is 
in  the  original)  for  offering  another  transla- 
tion to  the  public,  of  a  poem  which  has 
been  already  translated,  not  only  in  a  literal 
prose  form,  but  also,  twenty  or  thirty  times, 
in  metre,  and   sometimes  with  great   spirit, 

beauty,  and  power. 

The  author  of  the  present  version,  then, 
has  no  knowledge  that  a  rendering  of  this 
wonderful  poem  into  the  exact  and  ever- 
changing  metre  of  the  original  has,  until 
now,  been  so  much  as  attempted.  To  name 
only  one  defect,  the  very  best  versions  which 

(5) 


4        ■ 


O  TRANSLATOR  S     PREFACE. 

he  has  seen  neglect  to  follow  the  exquisite 
artist  in  the  evidently  planned  and  orderly 
Intermixing  of  male  and  female  rhymes,  /.  e, 
rhymes  which  fall  on  the  last  syllable  and 
those  which  fall  on  the  last  but  one.  Now, 
every  careful  student  of  the  versification  of 
Faust  must  feel  and  see  that  Goethe  did  not 
intersperse  the  one  kind  of  rhyme  with  the 
other,  at  random,  as  those  translators  do; 
who,  also,  give  the  female  rhyme  (on  which 
the  vivacity  of  dialogue  and  description  often 
so  much  depends,)  in  so  small  a  proportion. 

A  similar  criticism  might  be  made  of  their 
liberty  in  neglecting  Goethe's  method  of 
alternating  different  measures  with  each  other. 

It  seems  as   if,  in    respect  to   metre,   at 

least,  they  had  asked  themselves,  how  would 
Goethe  have  written  or  shaped  this  in  Eng- 
Hsh,  had  that  been  his  native  language,  in- 
stead of  seeking  con  amore  (and  con  Jidelita) 
as  they  should  have  done,  to  reproduce,  both 
in  spirit  and  in  form,  the  movement,  so  free 
and  yet  orderly,  of  the  singularly  endowed 
and  accomplished  poet  whom  they  under- 
took to  represent. 


translator's   preface.  7 

As  to  the  objections  which  Hayward  and 
some  of  his  reviewers  have  instituted  in  ad- 
vance against  the  possibility  of  a  good  and 
faithful  metrical  translation  of  a  poem  like 
Faust,  they  seem    to    the    present    translator 
full  of  paradox  and  sophistry.     For  instance, 
take  this  assertion  of  one  of  the  reviewers: 
"  The  sacred  and  mysterious  union  of  thought 
with  verse,  twin-born  and  immortally  wedded 
from  the    moment  of   their    common    birth, 
can  never  be  understood   by  those  who  de- 
sire verse  translations  of  good  poetry."     If 
the  last  part  of  this  statement  had  read  "  by 
those  who  can  be  contented  with  prose  trans- 
lations of  good  poetry,"  the  position  would 
have  been  nearer  the  truth.     This  much  we 
might  well    admit,   that,    if   the    alternative 
were  either  to  have  a  poem  like  Faust  in  a 
metre  different  and  glaringly  different  from 
the    original,  or    to   have   it  in  simple    and 
strong  prose,  then  the  latter  alternative  would 
be  the  one  every  tasteful  and  feeling  scholar 
would  prefer;  but  surely  to  every  one  who 
can  read  the  original  or  wants  to  know  how 
this  great  song   sung    itself  (as  Carlyle  says) 


8 


TRANSLATOR  S     PREFACE. 


out  of  Goethe's  soul,  a  mere  prose  render- 
ing must  be,  comparatively,  a  corpus  mor^ 
tuum. 

The  translator  most  heartily  dissents  from 
Hayward's    assertion    that    a    translator    of 
Faust  "  must  sacrifice  either  metre  or  mean- 
ing."     At  least   he  flatters   himself  that   he 
has  made,  in  the    main,  fnot    a    compromise 
between    meaning   and    melody,    though    in 
certain    instances   he   may   have   fallen   into 
that,  but)    a    combination    of   the    meaning 
with  the  melody,  which    latter  is  so  impor- 
tant, so    vital    a    part    of   the    lyric    poem's 
meaning,  in  any  worthy  sense.     "  No  poetic 
translation,"  says  Hayward's  reviewer,  already 
quoted,  "can   give    the    rhythm    and  rhyme 
of  the    original;  it   can   only  substitute  the 
rhythm  and  rhyme  of  the  translator."     One 
might  just  as  well  say  "no  prose  translation 
can  give  the  sense  and  spirit  of  the  original ; 
it   can    only  substitute   the    sense  and  spirit 
of  the  words    and  phrases  of  the   translator's 
language;''    and    then,  these    two    assertions 
balancing  each    other,  there  will    remain    in 
the  metrical  translator's  favor,  that  he   may 


translator's   preface.  9 

come  as  near  to  giving  both  the  letter  and 
the  spirit,  as  the  effects  of  the  Babel  disper 
sion  will  allow. 

As  to  the  original  creation  which  he  has 
attempted  here  to  reproduce,  the  translator 
might  say  something,  but  prefers  leaving 
his  readers  to  the  poet  himself,  as  revealed 
in  the  poem,  and  to  the  various  commen- 
taries of  which  we  have  some  accounts,  at 
least,  in  English.  A  French  translator  of 
the  poem  speaks  in  his  introduction  as  fol- 
lows: "This  Faust,  conceived  by  him  in 
his  youth,  completed  in  ripe  age,  the  idea 
of  which  he  carried  with  him  through  all 
the  commotions  of  his  life,  as  Camoens 
bore  his  poem  with  him  through  the  waves, 
this  Faust  contains  him  entire.  The  thirst 
for  knowledge  and  the  martyrdom  of  doubt, 
had  they  not  tormented  his  early  years? 
Whence  came  to  him  the  thought  of  tak- 
ing refuge  in  a  supernatural  realm,  of  ap- 
pealing to  invisible  powers,  which  plunged 
him,  for  a  considerable  time,  into  the  dreams 
of  Illuminati  and  made  him  even  invent  a 
religion?      This   irony  of  Mephistopheles, 


10 


TRANSLATOR  S     PREFACE. 


translator's   preface. 


II 


who  carries  on  so  audacious  a  game  with 

the  weakness  and  the  desires  of  man,  is  it 
not  the  mocking,  scornful  side  of  the  poet's 
spirit,  a  leaning  to  sullenness,  which  can  be 
traced  even  into  the  earliest  years  of  his 
life,  a  bitter  leaven  thrown  into  a  strong 
soul  forever  by  early  satiety  ?  The  character 
of  Faust  especially,  the  man  whose  burning, 
untiring  heart  can  neither  enjoy  fortune  nor 

do  without  it,   who    gives    himself  uncondi- 
tionally and  watches  himself  with    mistrust, 
who  unites  the   enthusiasm  of  passion   and 
the    dejectedness  of  despair,  is   not   this  an 
eloquent  opening  up  of  the  most  secret  and 
tumultuous  part  of  the    poet's    souH     And 
now,  to   complete    the  image    of  his    inner 
life,  he  has  added    the  transcendingly  sweet 
person  of  Margaret,  an  exalted  reminiscence 
of  a   young  girl,  by  whom,  at   the    age  of 
fourteen,  he  thought  himself  beloved,  whose 
image  ever  floated  round  him,  and  has  con- 
tributed some  traits  to  each  of  his  heroines. 
This  heavenly  surrender  of  a  simple,  good, 
and  tender  heart  contrasts  wonderfully  with 
the  sensual  and  gloomy  passion  of  the  lover, 


1 


who,  in  the  midst  of  his  love-dreams,  is  per- 
secuted by  the  phantoms  of  his  imagination 
and  by  the  nightmares  of  thought,  with 
those  sorrows  of  a  soul,  which  is  crushed, 
but  not  extinguished,  which  is  tormented 
by  the  invincible  want  of  happiness  and 
the  bitter  feeling,  how  hard  a  thing  it  is 
to  receive  or  to  bestow." 


n 


DEDICATION.* 


Once  more  ye  waver  dreamily  before  me. 
Forms  that  so  early  cheered  my  troubled  eyes  I 
To  hold  you  faft  doth  ftill  my  heart  implore  me  ? 
Still  bid  me  clutch  the  charm  that  lures  and  flics  ? 
Ye  crowd  around  1  come,  then,  hold  empire  o'er  me. 
As  from  the  mift  and  haze  of  thought  ye  rise ; 

The  magic  atmosphere,  your  train  enwreathing. 
Through  my  thrilled  bosom  youthful  bliss  is  breathing. 

Ye  bring  with  you  the  forms  of  hours  Elysian, 
And  shades  of  dear  ones  rise  to  meet  my  gaze  ; 

Firft  Love  and  Friendship  fteal  upon  my  vision 

Like  an  old  tale  of  legendary  days ; 

Sorrow  renewed,  in  mournful  repetition, 

Runs  through  life's  devious,  labyrinthine  ways ; 

And,  sighing,  names  the  good  (by  Fortune  cheated 

Of  blis^ul  hours !)  who  have  before  me  fleeted. 

<i3) 


14  I>EDICATION. 

These  later  songs  of  mine,  alas  !  will  never 
Sound  in  their  ears  to  whom  the  firft  were  sung ! 
Scattered  like  duft,  the  friendly  throng  forever ! 
Mute  the  firft  echo  that  so  grateful  rung ! 
To  the  ftrange  crowd  I  sing,  whose  very  favor 
Like  chilling  sadness  on  my  heart  is  flung ; 
And  all  that  kindled  at  those  earlier  numbers 
Roams  the  wide  earth  or  in  its  bosom  slumbers. 

And  now  I  feel  a  long-unwonted  yearning 

For  that  calm,  pensive  spirit-realm,  to-day; 

Like  an  ^olian  lyre,  (the  breeze  returning,) 

Floats  in  uncertain  tones  my  lisping  lay  ; 

Strange  awe  comes  o'er  me,  tear  on  tear  falls  burning. 

The  rigid  heart  to  milder  mood  gives  way ; 

What  I  possess  I  see  afar  off  lying, 

And  what  I  loll  is  real  and  undying. 


PRELUDE 


IN   THE   THEATRE. 


— ^*Q!©— 


Manager.     Dramatic  Poet,     Merry  Person, 

Manager.     You  who  in  trouble  and  diftress 
Have  both  held  faft  your  old  allegiance, 
What  think  ye .?  here  in  German  regions 
Our  enterprise  may  hope  success } 
To  please  the  crowd  my  purpose  has  been  fteady. 
Because  they  live  and  let  one  live  at  leaft. 
The  pofts  are  set,  the  bbards  are  laid  already. 
And  every  one  is  looking  for  a  feaft. 
They  sit,  with  lifted  brows,  composed  looks  wearing, 
Expeaing  something  that  fhall  set  them  ftaring. 
I  know  the  public  palate,  that's  confeft  ; 
Yet  never  pined  so  for  a  sound  suggeftion  ^ 
True,  they  are  not  accuftomed  to  the  beft. 
But  they  have  read  a  dreadful  deal,  paft  quefHon. 
How  fhall  we  work  to  make  all  frefh  and  new. 
Acceptable  and  profitable,  too  ? 

(is) 


i6 


PRELUDE    IN    THE    THEATRE. 


For  sure  I  love  to  see  the  torrent  boiling. 

When  towards  our  booth  they  crowd  to  find  a  place, 

Now  rolling  on  a  space  and  then  recoiling, 

Then  squeezing  through  the  narrow  door  of  grace : 

Long  before  dark  each  one  his  hard-fought  ftation 

In  sight  of  the  box-office  window  takes. 

And  as,  round  bakers*  doors  men  crowd  to  escape 

ftarvation, 
For  tickets  here  they  almoft  break  their  necks. 
This  wonder,  on  so  mixed  a  mass,  the  Poet 
Alone  can  workj  to-day,  my  friend,  O,  show  it! 
Poet,     Oh  speak  not  to  me  of  that  motley  ocean, 

Whose  roar  and  greed  the  fhuddering  spirit  chill ! 
Hide  from  my  sight  that  billowy  commotion 
That  draws  us  down  the  whirlpool  'gainft  our  will. 
No,  lead  me  to  that  nook  of  calm  devotion. 
Where  blooms  pure  joy  upon  the  Muses*  hill ; 
Where  love  and  friendfhip  aye  create  and  cherifh, 
With  hand  divine,  heart-joys *that  never  perifh. 
Ah !  what,  from  feeling's  deepeft  fountain   spring- 
ing, 
Scarce  from  the  ftammering  lips  had  faintly  passed. 
Now,  hopeful,  venturing  forth,  now  (hyly  clinging, 
To  the  wild  moment's  cry  a  prey  is  caft. 
Oft  when  for  years  the  brain  had  heard  it  ringing 
It  comes  in  full  and  rounded  fhape  at  laft. 
What  fhines,  is  born  but  for  the  moment's  pleasure  i 
The  genuine  leaves  pofterity  a  treasure. 


PRELUDE    IN    THE    THEATRE. 


17 


Merry  Person.      Pofterity !    I'm    sick    of  hearing 
of  it; 

Supposing  I  the/uture  age  would  profit, 

Who  then  would  furnifli  ours  with  fun  ? 

For  it  muft  have  it,  ripe  and  mellow ; 

The  presence  of  a  fine  young  fellow, 

Is  cheering,  too,  methlnks,  to  any  one. 

Whoso  can  pleasantly  communicate, 

Will  not  make  war  with  popular  caprices. 

For,  as  the  circle  waxes  great. 

The  power  his  word  fliall  wield  increases. 

Come,  then,  and  let  us  now  a  model  see, 

Let  Phantasy  with  all  her  various  choir. 

Sense,  reason,  passion,  sensibility. 

But,  mark  me,  folly  too  !   the  scene  inspire. 

Manager.      But  the  great  point  is  aaion  !   Every 
one 
Comes  as  speclator,  and  the  fhow's  the  fun. 
Let  but  the  plot  be  spun  ofF  faft  and  thickly, 
So  that  the  crowd  fhall  gape  in  broad  surprise. 
Then  have  you  made  a  wide  impression  quickly, 
You  are  the  man  they'll  idolize. 
The  mass  can  only  be  impressed  by  masses  ; 
Then  each  at  laft  picks  out  his  proper  part. 
Give  much,  and  then  to  each  one  sonething  passes. 
And  each  one  leaves  the  house  with  happy  heart. 
Have  you  a  piece,  give  it  at  once  in  pieces  ! 
Such  a  ragout  your  fame  increases  ; 


i8 


PRELUDE    IN    THE    THEATRE. 


It  cofts  as  little  pains  to  play  as  to  invent. 
But  what  is  gained,  if  you  a  whole  present? 
Your  public  picks  it  presently  to  pieces. 

Poet.     You  do  not  feel  how   mean  a  trade  like 

that  must  be  1 
In  the  true  Artift's  eyes  how  false  and  hollow  ! 
Our  genteel  botchers,  well  I  see. 
Have  given  the  maxims  that  you  follow. 

Manager,     Such  charges  pass  me  like  the   idle 

wind  ; 
A  man  who  has  right  work  in  mind 
Muft  choose  the  inftruments  moft  fitting. 
Consider  what  soft  wood  you  have  for  splitting, 

And  keep  in  view  for  whom  you  write  ! 
If  this  one  from  ennui  seeks  flight, 
That  other  comes  full  from  the  groaning  table, 
Or,  the  worft  case  of  all  to  cite. 
From  reading  journals  is  for  thought  unable. 
Vacant  and  giddy,  all  agog  for  v/onder. 
As  to  a  masquerade  they  wing  their  way  ; 
The  ladies  give  themselves  and  all   their  precious 
plunder 

And  without  wages  help  us  play. 

On  your   poetic    heights    what    dream   comes   o'er 

you  ? 
What  glads  a  crowded  house  ?     Behold 
Your  patrons  in  array  before  you ! 
One  half  are  raw,  the  other  cold. 


PRELUDE    IN    THE    THEATRE. 


'9 


One,  after  this  play,  hopes  to  play  at  cards, 

One  a  wild  night  to  spend  beside  his  doxy  chooses, 

Poor  fools,  wh)i  court  ye  the  regards, 

For  such  a  set,  of  the  chafte  muses  ? 

I  tell  you,  give  them  more  and  ever  more  and  more, 

And  then  your  mark  you'll  hardly  ftray  from  ever ; 

To  myftify  be  your  endeavor. 

To  satisfy  is  labor  sore 

What  ails  you  ?    Are  you  pleased  or  pained  ?    What 
notion — 

Poet.      Go  to,  and  find  thyself  another  slave ! 

What !  and  the  lofty  birthright  Nature  gave. 

The  nobleil  talent  Heaven  to  man  has  lent, 

Thou  bid'ft  the  Poet  fling  to  folly's  ocean  ! 

How  does  he  ftir  each  deep  emotion  ? 

How  does  he  conquer  every  element? 

But  by  the  tide  of  song  that  from  his  bosom  springs. 

And  draws  into  his  heart  all  living  things  ? 

When  Nature's  hand,  in  endless  iteration. 

The  thread  across  the  whizzing  spindle  flings. 

When  the  complex,  monotonous  creation 

Jangles  with  all  its  million  firings  : 

^Vho,  then,  the  long,  dull  series  animatino-. 

Breaks  into  rhythmic  march  the  soulless  round  ? 

And,  to  the  law  of  All  each  member  consecrating. 

Bids  one  majeflic  harmony  resound  ? 

Who  bids  the  tempefl  rage  with  passion's  power? 

T  he  earnefl  soul  with  evening-redness  glow  ? 


20 


PRELUDE  IN  THE  THEATRE. 


PRELUDE  IN  THE  THEATRE. 


21 


Who  scatters  vernal  bud  and  summer  flowei 
Along  the  path  where  loved  ones  go  ? 
Who  weaves  each  green  leaf  in  the  wind  that  trem- 
bles 
To  form  the  wreath  that  merit's  brow  fhall  crown  ? 

Who  makes  Olympus  faft  ?    the  gods  assembles  ? 
The  power  of  manhood  in  the  Poet  fhown. 

Merry  Person.     Come,  then,  put  forth  these  noble 
powers, 
And,  Poet,  let  thy  path  of  flowers 
Follow  a  love-adventure's  winding  ways. 
One  comes  and  sees  by  chance,  one  burns,  one  flays. 
And  feels  the  gradual,  sweet  entangling  ! 
The  pleasure  grows,  then  comes  a  sudden  jangling, 
Then  rapture,  then  diftress  an  arrow  plants. 
And  ere  one  dreams  of  it,  lo  !  there  is  a  romance. 
Give  us  a  drama  in  this  fafhion  !  • 

Plunge  into  human  life's  full  sea  of  passion  ! 
Each  lives  it,  few  its  meaning  ever  guessed. 
Touch  where  you  will,  'tis  full  of  intereft. 
Bright  fhadows  fleeting  o'er  a  mirror, 
A  spark  of  truth  and  clouds  of  error, 
By  means  like  these  a  drink  is  brewed 
To  cheer  and  edify  the  multitude. 
The  faireft  flower  of  the  youth  sit  listening 
Before  your  play,  and  wait  the  revelation ; 
Each  melancholy  heart,  with  soft  eyes  gliftening. 
Draws  sad,  sweet  nouriftiment  from  your  creation ; 


This  passion  now,  now  that  is  ftirred,  by  turns. 
And  each  one  sees  what  in  his  bosom  burns. 
Open  alike,  as  yet,  to  weeping  and  to  laughter, 
They  ftill  admire  the  flights,  they  ftill  enjoy  the  fhow  ; 
Him  who  is  formed,  can  nothing  suit  thereafter; 
The  yet  unformed  with  thanks  will  ever  glow. 
Poet.     Ay^  give  me  back  the  joyous  hours. 
When  I  myself  was  ripening,  too. 
When  song,  the  fount,  flung  up  its  fhowers 

Of  beauty  ever  frefli  and  new. 

When  a  soft  haze  the  world  was  veiling, 

Each  bud  a  miracle  bespoke. 

And  from  their  ftems  a  thousand  flowers  I  broke. 

Their  fragrance  through  the  vales  exhaling. 

I  nothing  and  yet  all  possessed. 

Yearning  for  truth  and  in  illusion  bleft. 

Give  me  the  freedom  of  that  hour. 

The  tear  of  joy,  the  pleasing  pain, 

Of  hate  and  love  the  thrilling  power. 

Oh,  give  me  back  my  youth  again  ! 

Merry   Person.       Youth,    my    good    friend,   thou 
needefl  certainly 

When  ambuflied  foes  are  on  thee  springing. 

When  lovelieft  maidens  witchingly 
Their  white  arms  round  thy  neck  are  flinging. 
When  the  far  garland  meets  thy  glance. 
High  on  the  race-ground's  goal  suspended. 
When  after  many  a  mazy  dance 


•a 


22 


PRELUDE    IN    THE   THEATRE. 


In  drink  and  song  the  night  is  ended. 

But  with  a  free  and  graceful  soul 

To  ftrike  the  old  familiar  lyre, 

And  to  a  self-appointed  goal 

Sweep  lightly  o'er  the  trembling  wire, 

There  lies,  old  gentlemen,  to-day 

Your  talk  i  fear  not,  no  vulgar  error  blinds  us. 

Ao-e  does  not  make  us  childifh,  as  they  say, 

O 

But  we  are  ft  ill  true  children  when  it  finds  us. 

Manager,     Come,  words  enough  you  two  have 
bandied, 
Now  let  us  see  some  deeds  at  laft ; 
While  you  toss  compliments  full-handed, 
The  time  for  useful  work  flies  faft. 
Why  talk  of  being  in  the  humor? 
Who  hesitates  will  never  be. 
If  you  are  poets  (so  says  rumor) 
Now  then  command  your  poetry. 
You  know  full  well  our  need  and  pleasure, 
We  want  ftrong  drink  in  brimming  measure  j 
Brew  at  it  now  without  delay ! 
To-morrow  will  not  do  what  is  not  done  to-day. 
Let  not  a  day  be  loft  in  dallying, 
But  seize  the  possibility 
Right  by  the  forelock,  courage  rallying. 
And  forth  with  fearless  spirit  sallying, — 
Once  in  the  yoke  and  you  are  free. 


PRELUDE    IN    THE    THEATRE. 


^3 


Upon  our  German  boards,  you  know  it. 
What  any  one  would  try,  he  may  ; 
Then  ftint  me  not,  I  beg,  to-day, 
In  scenery  or  machinery.  Poet. 
With  great  and  lesser  heavenly  lights  make  free, 
Spend  ftarlight  juft  as  you  desire  ; 
No  want  of  water,  rocks  or  fire 
Or  birds  or  beafts  to  you  fhall  be. 
So,  in  this  narrow  wooden  house's  bound, 
Stride  through  the  whole  creation's  round. 
And  with  considerate  swiftness  wander 
From  heaven,  through  this  world,  to  the  world  down 
yonder. 


PROLOGUE 


IN    HEAVEN. 


FThe   Lord.    The  Heavenly  Hosts  ajtemvard  Mephis- 
TOPHELES.     Tie  three  archangels,  Raphael,  Gabriel,  and 
Michael,  come  forward.'] 
Raphael     The  sun,  in  ancient  wise,  is  sounding, 

With  brother-spheres,  in  rival  song  i 
And,  his  appointed  journey  rounding, 

With  thunderous  movement  rolls  along. 
His  look,  new  ftrength  to  angels  lending. 

No  creature  fathom  can  for  aye ; 
The  lofty  works,  paft  comprehending, 
Stand  lordly,  as  on  time's  firft  day. 
Gabriel.    And  swift,  with  wondrous  swiftness  fleet- 
ing, 
The  pomp  of  earth  turns  round  and  round, 

The  glow  of  Eden  alternating 

With  Juddering  midnight's  gloom  profound } 
Up  o'er  the  rocks  the  foaming  ocean 

Heaves  from  its  old,  primeval  bed. 
And  rocks  and  seas,  with  endless  motion. 

On  in  the  spheral  sweep  are  sped. 


PROLOGUE    IN    HEAVEN. 


25 


Michael.     And  tempefls  roar,  glad  warfare  waging. 

From  sea  to  land,  from  land  to  sea, 
And  bind  round  all,  amidll  their  raging, 

A  chain  of  giant  energy. 
There,  lurid  desolation,  blazing. 

Foreruns  the  volleyed  thunder's  way  : 
Yet,  Lord,  thy  messengers  ^  are  praising 

The  mild  procession  of  thy  day. 
Jll   Three.       The   sight   new    ftrength    to    angels 
lendeth. 
For  none  thy  being  fathom  may. 
The  works,  no  angel  comprehendeth. 

Stand  lordly  as  on  time's  firft  day. 
Mephijippheles.     Since,  Lord,  thou  draweft  near  us 
once  again, 
And  how  we  do,  doft  graciously  inquire. 
And  to  be  pleased  to  see  me  once  didft  deign, 
I  too  among  thy  household  venture  nigher. 
Pardon,  high  words  I  cannot  labor  after. 

Though  the  whole  court  ftiould  look  on  me  with 

scorn  ; 
My  pathos  certainly  would  ftir  thy  laughter, 
Hadft  thou  not  laughter  long  since  quite  forsworn. 
Of  sun  and  worlds  I've  nought  to  tell  worth  mention, 
How  men  torment  themselves  takes  my  attention. 

The  little  God  o'  the  world  jogs  on  the  same  old 

way 
And  is  as  singular  as  on  the  world's  firft  day. 


»6 


PROLOGUE    IN    HEAVEN. 


A  pity  *tis  thou  fhouldft  have  given 

The  fool,  to  make  him  worse,  a  gleam  of  light  from 

heaven  \ 
He  calls  it  reason,  using  it 
To  be  more  beaft  than  ever  bead  v^ras  yet. 
He  seems  to  me,  (your  grace  the  word  will  pirdon,) 
Like  a  long-legg'd  grasshopper  in  the  garden, 

Forever  on  the  wing,  and  hops  and  sings 
The  same  old  song,  as  in  the  grass  he  spring?  i 
Would  he  but  ftay  there  !  no  ;  he  needs  muft  muddle 
His  prying  nose  in  every  puddle. 

The  Lord.     Haft  nothing  for  our  edification  ? 
Still  thy  old  work  of  accusation  ? 
Will  things  on  earth  be  never  right  for  thee  ? 

Mephijhpheles,     No,  Lord !   I  find   them  ftill   as 
bad  as  bad  can  be. 

Poor  souls  !   their  miseries  seem  so  much  to  please 


em. 


I  scarce  can  find  it  in  my  heart  to  tease  'em. 

The  Lord,         Knoweft  thou  Fauft  ? 

Meph'ijiopheles.  The  Doaor  ? 

The  Lord,  Ay,  my  servant ! 

Mephljlopheles,  He ! 

Forsooth  !  he  serves  you  in  a  famous  fafhion ; 
No  earthly  meat  or  drink  can  feed  his  passion  j 

Its  grasping  greed  no  space  can  measure  ; 
Half-conscious  and  half-crazed,  he  finds  no  reft ; 
The  faireft  ftars  of  heaven  muft  swell  his  treasure, 


PROLOGUE    IN    HEAVEN. 


27 


Each  higheft  joy  of  earth  muft  yield  its  zeft, 
Not  all  the  world — the  boundless  azure — 
Can  fill  the  void  within  his  craving  breaft. 

The  Lord.     He  serves  me  somewhat  darkly,  now, 
I  grant, 
Yet  will  he  soon  attain  the  light  of  reason. 
Sees  not  the  gardener,  in  the  green  young  plant. 
That  bloom  and  fruit  fliall  deck  its  coming  season  ? 

Mephljlopheles,    What  will  you  bet  ?  You'll  surely 
lose  your  wager ! 
If  you  will  give  me  leave  henceforth, 
To  lead  him  softly  on,  like  an  old  ftager. 

The  Lord.     So  long  as  he  fliall  live  on  earth, 
Do  vv^ith  him  all  that  you  desire. 
Man  errs  and  ftaggers  from  his  birth. 

Mephljlopheles,     Thank  you  ;  I  never  did  aspire 

To  have  with  dead  folk  much  transa^ion. 

In  full  frefh  cheeks  I  take  the  greateft  satisfaction. 

A  corpse  will  never  find  me  in  the  house ; 

I  love  to  play  as  puss  does  with  the  mouse. 

The  Lord.      All  right,   I   give   thee   full    permis- 
sion ! 
Draw  down  this  spirit  from  its  source. 
And,  canft  thou  catch  him,  to  perdition 
Carry  him  with  thee  in  thy  course, 

But  ftand  abafhed,  if  thou  muft  needs  confess. 
That  a  good  man,  though  passion  blur  his  vision, 
Has  of  the  right  way  ftill  a  consciousness. 


28 


PROLOGUE    IN    HEAVEN. 


Mephi/opheles,      Good !  but  I'll  make  it  a  fhort 
flory. 
About  my  wager  Pm  by  no  means  sorry. 
And  if  I  gain  my  end  with  glory 
Allow  me  to  exult  from  a  full  bread. 
Duft  fhall  he  cat  and  that  with  zeft. 
Like  my  old  aunt,  the  snake,  whose  fame  is  hoary. 

The  Lord,    Well,  go  and  come,  and  make  thy  trial ; 
The  like  of  thee  I  never  yet  did  hate. 
Of  all  the  spirits  of  denial 
The  scamp  is  he  I  beft  can  tolerate. 
Man  is  too  prone,  at  beft,  to  seek  the  way  that's  easy. 
He  soon  grows  fond  of  unconditioned  reft  ; 
And  therefore  such  a  comrade  suits  him  beft, 
Who  spurs  and  works,  true  devil,  always  busy. 
But  you,  true  sons  of  God,  in  growing  measure, 
Enjoy  rich  beai^ty's  living  ftores  of  pleasure  ! 
The  Word  ^  divine  that  lives  and  works  for  aye. 
Fold  you  in  boundless  love's  embrace  alluring. 
And  what  in  floating  vision  glides  away, 
That  seize  ye  and  make  faft  with  thoughts  enduring. 

IHea'ven  closes y  the  archangels  disperse.^ 

Mephtjlopheles.     \Alone.\     I   like   at  times  to  ex- 
chanQ;e  with  him  a  word. 
And  take  care  not  to  break  with  him.     'Tis  civil 
In  the  old  fellow*  and  so  great  a  Lord 
To  talk  so  kindly  with  the  very  devil. 


FAUST. 


Kight,     In  a  narr(ym  bigh-arched  Gothic  rcom^  Faust  sitting 

uneasy  at  bis  desk. 

FauJ}.     Have  now,  alas  !  quite  studied  through 
Philosophy  and  Medicine, 
And  Law,  and  ah  !   Theology,  too. 
With  hot  desire  the  truth  to  win  ! 
And  here,  at  laft,  I  ftand,  poor  fool ! 
As  wise  as  when  I  entered  school ; 
Am  called  Magifter,  Do6lor,  indeed, — 
Ten  livelong  years  cease  not  to  lead 
Backward  and  forward,  to  and  fro. 
My  scholars  by  the  nose — and  lo  ! 
Juft  nothing,  I  see,  is  the  sum  of  our  learning, 
To  the  very  core  of  my  heart  'tis  burning. 
*Tis  true  I'm  more  clever  than  all  the  foplings. 
Doctors,  Magifters,  Authors,  and  Popelings; 
Am  plagued  by  no  scruple,  nor  doubt,  nor  cavil. 
Nor  lingering  fear  of  hell  or  devil — 
What  then  ?  all  pleasure  is  fled  fqrevei  ; 
To  know  one  thing  I  vainly  endeavor. 
There's  nothino-  wherein  one  fellow-creature 

o 

Could  be  mended  or  bettered  with  me  for  p  teacher. 


30 


FAUST. 


And  then,  too,  nor  goods  nor  gold  have  I, 

Nor  fime  nor  worldly  dignity, — 

A  condition  no  dog  could  bnger  live  in ! 

And  so  to  magic  my  soul  I've  given, 

If,  haply,  by  spirits'  mouth  and  might. 

Some  myfterles  m.iy  not  be  brought  to  light ; 

That  to  teach,  no  longer  may  be  my  lot, 

With  bitter  sweat,  what  I  need  to  be  taught  j 

That  I  may  know  what  the  world  contains 

In  its  innermost  heart  and  finer  veins, 

See  all  its  energies  and  seeds 

And  deal  no  more  in  words  but  in  deeds. 

O  full,  round  Moon,  didil:  thou  but  fhinc 
For  the  laft  time  on  this  woe  of  mine  ! 
Thou  whom  so  many  a  midnight  I 
Have  watched,  at  this  defk,  come  up  the  fky  : 
O'er  books  and  papers,  a  dreary  pile. 
Then,  mournful  friend  !    uprose  thy  smile! 
Oh  that  I  might  on  the  mountain-height, 
Walk  in  the  noon  of  thy  blessed  light. 
Round  mountain-caverns  with  spirits  hover, 
Float  in  thy  gleamings  the  meadows  over. 
And  freed  from  the  fumes  of  a  lore-crammed  brain. 
Bathe  in  thy  dew  and  be  well  again  1 

Woe  !   and  these  walls  ftill  prison  me  ? 
Dull,  dismal  hole  !   my  curse  on  thee  ! 
Where  heaven's  own  light,  with  its  blessed  beams. 
Through  painted  panes  all  sickly  gleams ! 


FAUST. 


3' 


Hemmed  in  by  these  old  book-piles  tall, 

Which,  gnawed  by  worms  and  deep  in  muft. 
Rise  to  the  roof  against  a  wall 
Of  smoke-stained  paper,  thick  with  duft  j 
'Mid  glasses,  boxes,  where  eye  can  see. 
Filled  with  old,  obsolete  instruments. 
Stuffed  with  old  heirlooms  of  implements— 
That  is  thy  world  !     There's  a  world  for  thee ! 

And  still  doft  afk  what  ftifles  so 
The  fluttering  heart  within  thy  breaft  ? 
By  what  inexplicable  woe 
The  springs  of  life  are  all  oppressed  ? 
Instead  of  living  nature,  where 
God  made  and  planted  men,  his  sons. 
Through  smoke  and  mould,  around  thee  stare 
Grim  fkeletons  and  dead  men's  bones. 

Up  !  Fly  !  Far  out  into  the  land  ! 
And  this  myflerious  volume,  see ! 
By  Noflradamus's  ^  own  hand, 
Is  it  not  guide  enough  for  thee  ? 
l^hen  (halt  thou  thread  the  flarry  Ikies, 
And,  taught  by  nature  in  her  walks. 
The  spirit's  might  shall  o'er  thee  rise. 
As  ghoft  to  ghoft  familiar  talks. 
Vain  hope  that  mere  dry  sense  fhould  here 
Explain  the  holy  signs  to  thee. 
I  feel  you,  spirits,  hovering  near ; 
Oh,  if  you  hear  me,  answer  me ! 

[Ilr  opens  tbg  book  and  beholds  the  sign  of  the  Macrocosm.^ 


32 


FAUST. 


Ha!  as  1  gaze,  what  ecftasy  is  this, 

In  one  full  tide  through  all  my  senses  flowing ! 

I  feel  a  new-born  life,  a  holy  bliss 

Through  nerves  and  veins  myfteriously  glowing. 

Was  it  a  God  who  wrote  each  sign  ? 

Which,  all  my  inner  tumult  ftilling, 

And  this  poor  heart  with  rapture  filling. 

Reveals  to  me,  by  force  divine, 

Great    Nature's    energies    around    and    through    me 

thrilling  ? 
Am  I  a  God  ?     It  grows  so  bright  to  me  ! 

Each  charatTler  on  which  my  eye  reposes 
Nature  in  a6l  before  my  soul  discloses.  * 

The  saire's  word  was  truth,  at  laft  I  see  : 
"  The  spirit-world,  unbarred,  is  waiting ; 
Thy  sense 'is  locked,  thy  heart  is  dead  ! 
Up,  scholar,  bathe,  unhesitating. 
The  earthly  breaft  in  morning-red  !  *' 
[He  contemplates  the  sign.] 

How  all  one  whole  harmonious  weaves, 

Each  in  the  other  works  and  lives  ! 

See  heavenly  powers  ascending  and  descending. 

The  golden  buckets,  one  long  line,  extending  ! 

See  them  with  bliss-exhaling  pinions  winging 

Their  way  from  heaven  through  earth — their  singing 

Harmonious  through  the  universe  is  ringing  ! 

Majeflic  fhow  !   but  ah  !  a  {how  alone  ! 
Nature  !  where  find  I  thee,  immense,  unknown  ? 
Where  you,  yc  breafls  ?  Ye  founts  all  life  suftaining, 


FAUST. 


33 


On  which  hang  heaven  and  earth,  and  where 
Men's  withered  hearts  their  wafte  repair — 
Ye  gufh,  ye  nurse,  and  I  muft  sit  complaining  ? 

[He  opens  reluctantly  the  book  and  sees  the  sign  of  the  eartb- 

spirit.] 

How  differently  v/orks  on  me  this  sign ! 
Thou,  spirit  of  the  earth,  art  to  me  nearer  ; 
I  feel  my  powers  already  higher,  clearer, 
I  glow  already  as  with  new-pressed  wine, 
I  feel  the  mood  to  brave  life's  ceaseless  clafhing, 
To  bear  its  frowning  woes,  its  raptures  flafhing. 
To  mingle  in  the  tempeft's  dafhing, 
And  not  to  tremble  in  the  fhipwreck's  crafhingj 
Clouds  gather  o'er  my  head — 
The  moon  conceals  her  light — 
The  lamp  goes  out  ! 

It  smokes  ! — Red  rays  are  darting,  quivering 
Around  mv  head — comes  down 
A  horror  from  the  vaulted  roof 
And  seizes  me  ! 

Spirit  that  I  invoked,  thou  near  mc  art, 
Unveil  thyself! 

Ha  !  what  a  tearing  in  my  heart ! 
Upheaved  like  an  ocean 
My  senses  toss  with  ftrange  emotion ! 
I  feel  my  heart  to  thee  entirely  given  ! 
Thou  muft !  and  though  the  price  were  life — were 
heaven  ! 


24.  FAUST. 

[lie  seizes  the  book  and  p  enounces  mysteriously  the  sign  of  the 

spirit.     A   ruddy  Jiame  darts   outy  the  spirit  appears  in  the 

fame.] 

Spirit,  Who  calls  upon  me  ? 

Fauji.     [  Turn ing  away .  ] 

Horrid  sight ! 

Spirit.     Long  have  I  felt  the  mighty  action. 
Upon  my  sphere,  of  thy  attraction, 
And  now — 

FaujI.  Away,  intolerable  sprite  ! 

Spirit.     Thou  breath'st  a  panting  supplication 

To  hear  my  voice,  my  face  «-o  see  i 

Thy  mighty  prayer  prevails  on  me, 

I  come  ! — what  miserable  agitation 

Seizes  this  demigod  !      Where  is  the  cry  of  thought  ? 

Where  is  the  breall:  ?  that  in  itself  a  world  begot. 

And  bore  and  cherished,  that  with  joy  did  tremble 

And  fondly  dream  us  spirits  to  resemble. 

Where  art  thou,  Fauft  ?  whose  voice  rang  through 

my  ear, 
Whose  mighty  yearning  drew  me  from  my  sphere  ? 
Is  this  thing  thou  ?  that,  blafted  by  my  breath, 
Through  all  life's  windings  lliuddereth, 
A  shrinking,  cringing,  writhing  worm ! 

Fauj?.     Thee,  flame-born  creature,  (hall  I  fear  ? 
'Tis  I,  'tis  Fault,  behold  thy  peer  ! 

Spirit.     In  life's  tide  currents,  in  action's  ftorm, 
Up  and  down,  like  a  wave, 
Like  the  wind  I  sweep  ! 


FAUST. 


35 


Cradle  and  grave— 
A  limitless  deep — 

An  endless  v/eaving 
To  and  fro, 
A  reflless  heaving 
Of  life  and  glow, — 

So  fhape  I,  on  Deftiny*s  thundering  loom, 
The  Godhead's  live  garment,  eternal  in  bloom. 
FauJ?.     Spirit  that  sweep'ft  the  world  from  end  to 
end. 
How  near,  this  hour,  I  feel  myself  to  thee ! 

Spirit.     Thou'rt  like  the  spirit  thou  canft  com- 
prehend. 
Not  me  I  [F'anijhes, 

FauJ}.     [Collapsing.]     Not  thee  ? 
Whom  then  ? 
I,  image  of  the  Godhead, 
And  no  peer  for  thee ! 
[yf  knocking^ 

0  Death!   I  know  it ! — 'tis  my  Famulus—" 

Good-bye,  ye  dreams  of  bliss  Elysian  ! 
Shame  !  that  so  many  a  glowing  vision 
This  dried-up  sneak  muft  scatter  thus ! 

[Wagner,  in   sleeping-go-ucn  and  night-cap^  a   lamp  in   bis 
band.     Faust  turns  round  luiib  an  annoyed  look.'] 

ff^agner.     Excuse  me  !  you're  engaged  in  declama- 
tion ; 
*Twas  a  Greek  tragedy  no  doubt  you  read  ? 

1  in  this  art  should  like  initiation, 


36 


FAUST 


For  nowadays  it  (lands  one  well  inflead, 
Pve  often  heard  them  boaft,  a  preacher 
Might  profit  with  a  player  for  his  teacher. 

FauJ},       Yes,   when    the    preacher    is    a    player, 

granted : 
As  often  happens  in  our  modern  ways. 

JVagner.     Ah  !  when  one  with  such  love  of  fludy's 

haunted, 
And  scarcely  sees  the  world  on  holidays. 
And  takes  a  spy-glass,  as  it  were,  to  read  it. 
How  can  one  by  persuasion  hope  to  lead  it  ? 

Faujl.     What  you  don*t  feel,  you'll  never  catch  by 

hunting. 
It  muft  gufh  out  spontaneous  from  the  soul, 
And  with  a  frefh  delight  enchanting 
The  hearts  of  all  that  hear  control. 
Sit  there  forever  !     Thaw  your  glue-pot,— 
Blow  up  your  afh-heap  to  a  flame,  and  brew. 
With  a  dull  fire,  in  your  ftew-pot. 
Of  other  men's  leavings  a  ragout ! 
Children  and  apes  will  gaze  delighted, 
If  their  critiques  can  pleasure  impart; 
But  never  a  heart  will  be  ignited. 
Comes  not  the  spark  from  the  speaker's  heart. 

ly^agner.     Delivery  makes  the  orator's  success  j 
There  I'm  ftill  far  behindhand,  I  confess. 

FauJ},     Seek  honefl  gains,  without  pretence  ! 
Be  not  a  cymbal-tinkling  fool  ! 


FAUST. 


21 


Sound  underflanding  and  good  sense 

Speak  out  with  little  art  or  rule; 

And  when  you've  something  earneft  to  utter, 

Why  hunt  for  words  in  such  a  flutter? 

Yes,  your  discourses,  that  are  so  refined. 

In  which  humanity's  poor  fhreds  you  frizzle, 

Are  unrefrefliing  as  the  mifl  and  wind 

That  through  the  withered  leaves  of  autumn  whiflle  j 

JFagner.      Ah  God  !   well,  art  is  long! 
And  life  is  fliort  and  fleetino-. 

o 

What  headaches  have  I  felt  and  what  heart-beating. 

When  critical  desire  was  ftrong. 

How  hard  it  is  the  ways  and  means  to  mafter 

By  which  one  gains  each  fountain-head ! 

And  ere  one  yet  has  half  the  journey  sped, 

The  poor  fool  dies — O  sad  disafter ! 

FauJ},     Is  parchment,  then,  the  holy  well-spring, 
thinkeft, 

A  draught  from  which  thy  thirfl  forever  slakes  ? 

No  quickening  element  thou  drinkeft, 

Tdl  up  from  thine  own  soul  the  fountain  breaks. 

IVagner.     Excuse  me  I  in  these  olden  pages 
We  catch  the  spirit  of  the  by-gone  ages. 
We  see  what  wiseft  men  before  our  day  have  thought, 
And  to  what  glorious  heights  we  their  bequefls  have 
brought. 

FauJ}.     O  yes,  we've  reached  the  ftars  at  laft ! 
My  friend,  it  is  to  us, — the  buried  paft, 


38 


FAUST. 


A  book  with  seven  seals  protected  ; 

Your  spirit  of  the  times  is,  then, 

At  bottom,  your  own  spirit,  gentlemen, 

In  which  the  times  are  seen  reflecEled. 

And  often  such  a  mess  that  none  can  bear  it ; 

At  the  firft  sight  of  it  they  run  away. 

A  duft-bin  and  a  lumber-garret, 

At  moft  a  mock-heroic  play ' 

With  fine,  pragmatic  maxims  teeming. 

The  mouths  of  puppets  well-beseeming! 

Wagner.     But  then  the  world!  the  heart  and  mind 
of  man ! 

To  know  of  these  who  would  not  pay  attention  ? 

Fauft.     To  know  them,  yes,  as  weaklings  can! 
Who  dares  the  child's  true  name  outright  to  mention  ? 
The  few  who  any  thing  thereof  have  learned. 
Who  out  of  their  heart's  fulness  needs  muft  gabble, 
And  show  their  thoughts  and  feelings  to  the  rabble. 
Have  evermore  been  crucified  and  burned. 
I  pray  you,  friend,  'tis  wearing  into  night. 
Let  us  adjourn  here,  for  the  present. 

Wagner,     1   had  been  glad  to   ftay  till  morning 
light, 
This  learned  talk  with  you  has  been  so  pleasant. 
But  the  firft  day  of  Eaftcr  comes  to-morrow. 
And  then  an  hour  or  two  I'll  borrow. 
With  zeal  have  I  applied  myself  to  learning. 
True,  I  know  much,  yet  to  know  all  am  burnmg. 


FAUST. 


39 


Faujl.     \Alone.\     See  how  in  hh  head  only,  hope 
fliil  lingers. 
Who  evermore  to  empty  rubbifh  clings. 
With  greedy  hand  grubs  after  precious  things. 
And  leaps  for  joy  when  some  poor  worm  he  fingers ! 

That  such  a  human  voice  ihould  dare  intrude. 
Where  all  was  full  of  ghoflly  tones  and  features! 
Yet  ah  !  this  once,  my  gratitude 
Is  due  to  thee,  moft  w^retched  of  earth's  creatures. 
Thou  snatchedft  me  from  the  despairing  state 
In  which  my  senses,  well  nigh  crazed,  were  sunken. 
The  apparition  was  so  giant-great. 
That  to  a  very  dwarf  my  soul  had  fhrunken. 

I,  godlike,  who  in  fancy  saw  but  now 
Eternal  truth's  fair  glass  in  wondrous  nearness. 
Rejoiced  in  heavenly  radiance  and  clearness. 
Leaving  the  earthly  man  below ; 
I,  more  than  cherub,  whose  free  force 
Dreamed,  through  the  veins  of  nature  penetrating. 
To  tafle  the  life  of  Gods,  like  them  creating. 
Behold  me  this  presumption  expiating! 
A  word  of  thunder  sweeps  me  from  my  course. 

Myself  with  thee  no  longer  dare  I  measure ; 
Had  I  the  power  to  draw  thee  down  at  pleasure  ; 
To  hold  thee  here  I  fiill  had  not  the  force. 
Jh,  in  that  blell,  ecftatic  hour, 
I  felt  myself  so  small,  so  great ; 
Thou  droveft  me  with  cruel  powei 
Back  upon  man's  uncertain  fate. 


40 


FAUST. 


What  fhall  I  do  ?  what  fhun,  thus  lonely  ? 
That  impulse  muft  I,  then,  obey? 
Alas !  our  very  deeds,  and  not  our  sufferings  only, 
How  do  they  hem  and  choke  life's  way! 

To  all  the  mind  conceives  of  great  and  glorious 
A  ftrange  and  baser  mixture  ftill  adheres  ; 
Striving  for  earthly  good  are  we  victorious  ? 
A  dream  and  cheat  the  better  part  appears. 
The  feelings  that  could  once  such  noble  life  inspire 
Are  quenched  and  trampled  out  in  passion's  mire. 

Where  Fantasy,  erewhile,  with  daring  flight 
Out  to  the  infinite  her  wings  expanded, 
A  little  space  can  now  suffice  her  quite, 
When   hope  on  hope  timers  gulf  has  wrecked  and 

ftranded. 
Care  builds  her  nefl  far  down  the  heart's  recesses. 
There  broods  o'er  dark,  untold  distresses, 
Reftless  fhe  sits,  and  scares  thy  joy  and  peace  away ; 
She  puts  on  some  new  mafk  with  each  new  day, 
Herself  as  house  and  home,  as  wife  and  child  pre- 
senting, 
As  fire  and  water,  bane  and  blade  ; 
What  never  hits  makes  thee  afraid. 
And  what  is  never  loft  fhe  keeps  thee  flill  lament- 
ing. 

Not  like  the  Gods  am  I !     Too  deep  that  truth  is 
thruft! 
But  like  the  worm,  that  wriggles  through  the  dufl  ; 


FAUST. 


4.1 


Who,  as  along  the  duft  for  food  he  feels, 

Is  cruflicd  and  buried  by  the  traveller's  heels. 

Is  it  not  dufl  that  makes  this  lofty  wall 
Groan  with  its  hundred  fhelves  and  cases  ; 
The  rubbilh  and  the  thousand  trifles  all 
That  crowd  these  dark,  moth-peopled  places  ? 
Here  fhall  my  craving  heart  find  refl  ? 
Mufl  I  perchance  a  thousand  books  turn  over. 
To  find  that  men  are  everywhere  diftrefl. 
And  here  and  there  one  happy  one  discover  ? 
Why  grin'fl  thou  down  upon  me,  hollow  fkull  } 
But  that  thy  brain,  like  mine,  once  trembling,  hop- 
ing, 
Sought  the  light  day,  yet  ever  sorrowful, 

Burned  for  the  truth  in  vain,  in  twilight  groping? 
Ye,  inflruments,  of  course,  are  mocking  me ; 
Its  wheels,  cogs,  bands,  and  barrels  each  one  praises. 
I  waited  at  the  door  ;  you  were  the  key  ; 
Your  ward  is  nicely  turned,  and  yet  no  bolt  it  raises. 
Unlifted  in  the  broadefl  day, 

Doth  Nature's  veil  from  prj'ing  eyes  defend  her, 
And  what  fhe  chooses  not  before  thee  to  display. 
Not  all  thy  screws  and  levers  can  force  her  to  sur- 
render. 
Old  trumpery !  not  that  I  e'er  used  thee,  but 
Because  my  father  used  thee,  hang'ft  thou  o'er  me. 
Old  scroll !  thou  hafl  been  flalned  with  smoke  and 
smut 


42 


FAUST. 


Since,  on  this  defk,  the  lamp   firft  dimly  gleamed 

before  me. 
Better  have  squandered,  far,  I  now  can  clearly  see, 
My  little  all,  than  melt  beneath  it,  in  this  Tophet! 
That  which  thy  fathers  have  bequeathed  to  thee, 
Earn  and  become  possessor  of  it! 
What  profits  not  a  weary  load  will  be  ; 
What  it  brings  forth   alone  can  yield  the  moment 
profit. 

Why  do  I  gaze  as  if  a  spell  had  bound  me 
Up  yonder  ?     Is  that  flafk  a  magnet  to  the  eyes  ? 
What  lovely  light,  so  sudden,  blooms  around  me  ? 
As  when  in  nightly  woods  we  hail  the  full-moon-rlse, 

I  greet  thee,  rareft  phial,  precious  potion! 
As  now  I  take  thee  down  with  deep  devotion, 
In  thee  I  venerate  man's  wit  and  art. 
Quintessence  of  all  soporific  flowers. 
Extract  of  all  the  fineft  deadly  powers. 
Thy  favor  to  thy  mafter  now  impart! 
I  look  on  thee,  the  sight  my  pain  appeases, 
I  handle  thee,  the  ftrife  of  longing  ceases, 
The  flood-tide  of  the  spirit  ebbs  away. 
Far  out  to  sea  Pm  drawn,  sweet  voices  lillening, 
The  glassy  waters  at  my  feet  are  gliftening. 
To  new  fhores  beckons  me  a  new-born  day. 

A  fiery  chariot  floats,  on  airy  pinions, 
To  where  I  sit!     Willing,  it  beareth  me, 
On  a  new  path,  through  ether's  blue  dominions. 
To  untried  spheres  of  pure  activity. 


FAUST. 


43 


This  lofty  life,  this  bliss  elysian. 

Worm  that  thou  waft  erewhile,  deserveft  thou  ? 

Ay,  on  this  earthly  sun,  this  charming  vision. 
Turn  thy  back  resolutely  now! 
Boldly  draw  near  and  rend  the  gates  asunder, 
By  which  each  cowering  mortal  gladly  fteals. 
Now  is  the  time  to  fhow  by  deeds  of  wonder 
That  manly  greatness  not  to  godlike  glory  yields  j 
Before  that  gloomy  pit  to  ftuid,  unfearing, 
Where  Fantasy  self-damned  in  its  own  torment  lies, 
Still  onward  to  that  pass-way  fteering, 
Around  whose  narrow  mouth  hell-flames  forever  rise  j 
Calmly  to  dare  the  ftep,  serene,  unftirinking, 
Though  into  nothingness  the  hour  fhould  see  thee 
sinkinfj. 

Now,  then,  come  down  from  thy  old  case,  I  bid 

thee, 
Where  thou,  forgotten,  many  a  year  haft  hid  thee, 
Into  thy  mafter's  hand,  pure,  cryftal  glass ! 
The  joy-feafts  of  the  fathers  thou  haft  brightened, 
The  hearts  of  graveft  guefts  were  lightened. 
When,  pledged,  from  hand  to  hand  they  saw  thee 

pass. 
Thy  sides,  with  many  a  curious  type  bedight, 
vV'hich   each,  as   with    one    draught   he   quaffed   the 

liquor 
Muft  read  in  rhyme  from  off  the  wondrous  beaker, 
Remind  me,  ah  I  of  many  a  youthful  night. 


44 


FAUST. 


I  fhall  not  hand  thee  now  to  any  neighbor, 

Not  now  to  Ihow  my  wit  upon  thy  carvings  labor  j    , 

Here  is  a  juice  of  quick-intoxicating  might. 

The  rich  brown  flood  adown  thy  sides  is  ftreaming, 

With  my  own  choice  ingredients  teeming; 

Be  this  laft  draught,  as  morning  now  is  gleaming. 

Drained  as  a  lofty  pledge  to  greet  the  feftal  light ! 

[He  puts  the  goblet  to  bis  lips. 

Ringing  of  bells  and  choral  song. 

Chorus  of  Angels.     Chrifl  hath  arisen! 

Joy  to  humanity ! 

No  more  fhall  vanity, 

Death  and  inanity 

Hold  thee  in  prison! 
Faujl,    What  hum  of  music,  what  a  radiant  tone, 

Thrills  through  me,  from  my  lips  the.  goblet  flealing! 
Ye  murmuring  bells,  already  make  ye  known 
The  Eafter  morn's  firft  hour,  with  solemn  pealing  ? 
Sing  you,  ye   choirs,  e'en  now,  the   glad,  consoling 

song. 
That  once,  from  angel-lips,  through  gloom  sepul- 
chral rung, 
A  new  immortal  covenant  sealing  ? 
Chorus  of  IVomen.     Spices  we  carried. 

Laid  them  upon  his  bread  j 

Tenderly  buried 

Him  whom  we  loved  the  bed ; 


FAUST. 


45 


Cleanly  to  bind  him 

Took  we  the  fondeft  care, 

Ah !  and  we  find  him 

Now  no  more  there. 
Chorus  of  Angels.     Chrifl  hath  ascended! 

Reign  in  benignity! 

Pain  and  indignity. 

Scorn  and  malignity. 

Their  work  have  ended. 
Faujl.     Why  seek  ye  me  in  dust,  forlorn. 
Ye  heavenly  tones,  with  soft  enchanting  ? 
Go,  greet  pure-hearted  men  this  holy  morn ! 
Your  message  well  I  hear,  but  faith  to  mc  is  want- 


ing ; 


Wonder,  its  dearest  child,  of  Faith  is  born. 
To  yonder  spheres  I  dare  no  more  aspire. 

Whence  the  sweet  tidings  downward  float  ; 

And  yet,  from  childhood  heard,  the  old,  familiar  note 

Calls  back  e'en  now  to  life  my  warm  desire. 

Ah  !  once  how  sweetly  fell  on  me  the  kiss 

Of  heavenly  love  in  the  still  Sabbath  stealing ! 

Prophetically  rang  the  bells  with  solemn  pealing ; 

A  prayer  was  then  the  ecstasy  of  bliss  ; 

A  blessed  and  mysterious  yearning 

Drew  me  to  roam  through   meadows,  woods,  and 

fkies  ; 
And,  midst  a  thousand  tear-drops  burning, 
I  felt  a  world  within  me  rise. 


46  FAUST. 

That  strain,  oh,  how   it   speaks    yjuth's   gleesome 

plays  and  feelings, 
Joys  of  spring-festivals  long  past  j 
Remembrance  holds  me  now,  with  childhood's  fond 

appealings. 
Back  from  the  fatal  step,  the  last. 
Sound  on,  ye  heavenly  strains,  that  bliss  restore   me  ! 
Tears  gush,  once  more  the  spell  of  earth  is  o'er  me 
Chorus  of  Disciples,     Has  the  grave's  lowly  one 

Risen  victorious  ? 

Sits  he,  God's  Holy  One, 

High-throned  and  glorious? 

He,  in  this  blest  new  birth. 

Rapture  creative  knows  ;  ^ 

Ah  !  on  the  breast  of  earth 

Taste  we  still  nature's  woes. 

Left  here  to  languish 

Lone  in  a  world  like  this, 

Fills  us  with  anguifh 

Master,  thy  bliss ! 
Chorus  of  Angels,     Christ  has  arisen 

Out  of  corruption's  gloom. 

Break  from  your  prison, 

Burst  every  tomb ! 

Livingly  owning  him, 

Lovingly  throning  him. 

Feasting  fraternally, 

Praying  diurnally. 


FAUST. 


47 


Bearing  his  messages, 
Sharing  his  promises, 
Find  ye  your  master  near, 
Find  ye  him  here  I '' 


a8 


FAUST. 


BEFORE     THE     GATE. 

Pedestrians  of  all  descriptions  stroll  forth. 

Mechanics'  Jpprcntices,     Where  are  you  going  to 

carouse  ? 
Others.      We're   all   going  out  to  the   Hunter's 

House. 
The  Fir/I.      We're   going,  ourselves,   out  to  the 

Mill-House,  brothers. 
Jn    Apprentice.       The   Fountain-House   I    rather 

recommend. 
Second.     'Tis  not  a  pleiisant  road,  my  friend. 
The  second  group.      What  will  you  do,  then  ? 
J  Third.      I  go  with  the  others. 
Fourth.     Come  up  to  Burgdorf,  there  you're  sure 
to  find  good  cheer. 
The  handsomest  of  girls  and  best  of  beer, 
And  rows,  too,  of  the  very  first  water. 

Fifth.     You  monstrous  madcap,  does  your  fkin 
Itch  for  the  third  time  to  try  that  inn  ? 
I've  had  enough  for  my  taste  in  that  quarter. 

Servant-girl.      No!   I'm  going  back  again  to  town 

for  one. 
Others.     Under  those  poplars  we  are  sure  to  meet 

him. 
Firjl  Girl.      But  that  for  me  is  no  great  fun  ; 
For  you  are  always  sure  to  get  him, 


FAUST. 


49 


He  never  dances  with  any  but  you. 
Great  good  to  me  your  luck  will  do ! 

Others.      He's  not  alone,  I  heard  him  say. 
The  curlj^-hcad  would  be  with  him  to-day. 

Scholar.     Stars  I  how  the  buxom  wenches   stride 
there ! 

Quick,  brother  I   we  must  fasten  alongside  there. 
Strong  beer,  good  smart  tobacco,  and  the  waist 
Of  a  right  handsome  gall,  well  rigg'd,  now  that's  my 
taste. 
Citizen's  Daughter.      Do  see  those  fine,  young  fel- 
lows yonder! 
*Tis,  I  declare,  a  great  disgrace ; 
When  they  might  have  the  very  best,  I  wonder, 
After  these  galls  they  needs  must  race ! 

Second  scholar  [to   the  firjl\.      Stop!  not  so   fast! 
there  come  two  more  behind, 
My  eyes !   but  ain't  they  dressed  up  neatly  ? 
One  is  my  neighbor,  or  I'm  blind  ; 
I  love  the  girl,  {he  looks  so  sweetlv. 
Alone  all  quietly  they  go. 
You'll  find  they'll  take  us,  by  and  bye,  in  tow. 

Firjl.      No,  brother!  I    don't   like   these  starched 
up  ways. 

Alake  haste !  before  the  game  slips  through  our  fin- 
gers. 

riie  hand  that  swings  the  broom  o'  Saturdays 
On  Sundays  round  thy  neck  most  sweetly  lingers. 


50 


FAUST. 


FAUST. 


Citizen.      No,  I  don't  like  at  all  this  new-made 
burgomaster ! 
His  insolence  grows  daily  ever  faster. 
No  good  from  him  the  town  will  get! 
Will  things  grow  better  with  him  ?     Never ! 
We're  under  more  constraint  than  ever, 
And  pay  more  tax  than  ever  yet. 

Beggar.     [Sings.]     Good  gentlemen,  and  you,  fair 

ladies, 
With  such  red  cheeks  and  handsome  dress, 
Think  what  my  melancholy  trade  is. 
And  see  and  pity  my  distress  I 
Help  the  poor  harper,  sisters,  brothers ! 
Who  loves  to  give,  alone  is  gay. 
This  day,  a  holiday  to  others. 
Make  it  for  me  a  harvest  day. 
Another  citizen.     Sundays  and  holidavs,  I  like,  of 
all  things,  a  good  prattle 
Of  war  and  fighting,  and  the  whole  array. 
When  back  In  Turkey,  far  away. 
The  peoples  give  each  other  battle. 
One  stands  before  the  window,  drinks  his  glass, 
And  sees  the  fhips  with  flags  glide  slowly  down  the 

river  j 
Comes  home  at  night,  when  out  of  sight  they  pass, 
And  sings  with  joy,  "  Oh,  peace  forever! " 

Third  citizen.     So  I  say,  neighbor!  let  them  have 
their  way. 


5^ 


«9 


It* 


Ntl 


cc 


I 


Crack  fkulls  and  in  their  crazy  riot 
Turn  all  things  upside  down  they  may. 
But  leave  us  here  in  peace  and  quiet. 

Old  IVorhan   \tQ  the  citizen^ s  daughter].      Heyday, 
brave  prinking  this!  the  fine  young  blood! 
Who  is  not  smitten  that  has  met  you  ?  — 
But  not  so  proud!     All  very  good! 
And  what  you  want  I'll  promise  soon  to  get  you. 

Citizen's  Daughter.     Come,  Agatha!  I  dread  in 
public  sight 
To  prattle  with  such  hags  ;  don't  stay,  O,  Luddy ! 
'Tis  true  fhe  fhowed  me,  on  St.  Andrew's  night, 
My  future  sweetheart  in  the  body. 

Fhe  other.     She  fhowed  me  mine,  too.  In  a  glass, 
Right  soldierlike,  with  daring  comrades  round  him. 
I  look  all  round,  I  study  all  that  pass. 
But  to  this  hour  I  have  not  found  him. 
Soldiers,  Castles  with  lowering: 

Bulwarks  and  towers. 
Maidens  with  towering 
Passions  and  powers, 
Both  fhall  be  ours ! 
Daring  the  venture. 
Glorious  the  pay! 

W^hcn  the  brass  trumpet 
Summons  us  budly, 

Joy-ward  or  death-ward. 
On  we  march  proudly. 
That  Is  a  stormlno- ! 

o 


52 


FAUST. 


Life  in  its  splendor! 


Castles  and  maidens 
Both  must  surrender. 
Daring  the  venture, 
Glorious  the  pay. 
There  go  the  soldiers 
Marching  away! 
Faust  and  Wagner. 
Fauft.      Spring's   warm    look   has  unfettered   the 

fountains, 
Brooks  go  tinkling  with  silvery  feet ; 
Hope's  bright  blossoms  the  valley  greet ; 
Weakly  and  sickly  up  the  rough  mountains 
Pale  old  Winter  has  made  his  retreat. 
Thence  he  launches,  in  fheer  despite. 
Sleet  and  hail  in  impotent  fhowers. 
O'er  the  green  lawn  as  he  takes  his  flight ; 
But  the  sun  will  suffer  no  white. 

Everywhere  waking  the  formative  powers. 
Living  colors  he  yearns  to  spread  j 
Yet,  as  he  finds  it  too  early  for  flowers, 
Gayly  dressed  people  he  takes  instead. 
Look  from  this  height  whereon  we  find  us 
Back  to  the  town  we  have  left  behind  us. 
Where  from  the  dark  and  narrow  door 
Forth  a  motley  multitude  pour. 
They  sun  themselves  gladly  and  all  are  gay, 
They  celebrate  Christ's  resurrection  to-day. 


FAUST. 


53 


\ 


r 

1 


For  have  not  they  themselves  arisen  ? 

From  smoky  huts  and  hovels  and  stables. 

From  labor's  bonds  and  traflic's  prison, 

From  the  confinement  of  roofs  and  gables, 

From  many  a  cramping  street  and  alley. 

From  churches  full  of  the  old  world's  night, 

All  have  come  out  to  the  day's  broad  light. 

See,  only  see !  how  the  masses  saliy 

Streaming  and  swarming  through  gardens  and  fields. 

How  the  broad  stream  that  bathes  the  valley 

Is  everywhere  cut  with  pleasure  boats'  keels. 

And  that  last  fkifF,  so  heavily  laden. 

Almost  to  sinking,  puts  off  in  the  stream  ; 

Ribbons  and  jewels  of  youngster  and  maiden 

From  the  far  paths  of  the  mountain  gleam. 

How  it  hums  o'er  the   fields   and   clangs   from   the 

steeple ! 
This  is  the  real  heaven  of  the  people. 
Both  great  and  httle  are  merry  and  gay, 

I  am  a  man,  too,  I  can  be,  to-day. 

Wagner,     With  you.  Sir  Dodor,  to  go  out  walk- 
ing 
Is  at  all  times  honor  and  gain  enough  ; 
But  to  trust  myself  here  alone  would  be  fhocking, 
For  I  am  a  io^  to  all  that  is  rough. 
Fiddling  and  bowling  and  screams  and  laughter 
To  me  are  the  hatefullcst  noises  on  earth  ; 
They  yell  as  if  Satan  himself  were  after, 
And  call  it  music  and  call  it  mirth. 


54 


FAUST. 


[Peasants  (under  the  linden).     Dance  and  songi] 

The  fhepherd  prinked  him  for  the  dance, 

With  jacket  gay  and  spangle's  glance, 

And  all  his  finest  quiddle. 

And  round  the  linden  lass  and  lad 

They  wheeled  and  whirled  and  danced  like  mad. 

Huzza!  huzza! 
Huzza  I  Ha,  ha,  ha! 

And  tweedle-dee  went  the  fiddle. 

And  in  he  bounded  through  the  whirl, 

And  with  his  elbow  punched  a  girl. 

Heigh  diddle,  diddle ! 

The  buxom  wench  fhe  turned  round  quick, 

"  Now  that  I  call  a  scurvy  trick !  " 

Huzza!  huzza! 

Huzza!  ha,  ha,  ha! 

Tweedle-dee,  tweedle-dee  went  the  fiddle. 

And  petticoats  and  coat-tails  flew 

As  up  and  down  they  went,  and  through. 

Across  and  down  the  middle. 

They  all  grew  red,  they  all  grew  warm. 

And  rested,  panting,  arm  in  arm. 

Huzza!  huzza! 

Ta-ra-la ! 

Tweedle-dee  went  the  fiddle! 


FiftJST. 


55 


t 


"And  don't  be  so  familiar  there ! 
How  many  a  one,  with  speeches  fair. 

His  trusting  maid  will  diddle  I  '* 
But  Still  he  flattered  her  aside — 
And  from  the  linden  sounded  wide : 
Huzza!  huzza! 
Huzza!  huzza!  ha!  ha!  ha! 
And  tweedle-dee  the  fiddle. 

Old  Peasant.      Sir  Do6tor,  this  is  kind  of  you. 
That  with  us  here  you  deign  to  talk, 
And  through  the  crowd  of  folk  to-day 

A  man  so  highly  larned,  walk. 

So  take  the  fairest  pitcher  here, 

Which  we  with  frefhest  drink  have  filled, 

I  pledge  it  to  you,  praying  aloud 

That,  while  your  thirst  thereby  is  stilled, 

So  many  days  as  the  drops  it  contains 

May  fill  out  the  life  that  to  you  remains. 

Fauft.     I  take  the  quickening  draught  and  call 
For  heaven's  best  blessing  on  one  and  all. 

\The  people  form  a  circle  round  him.'] 

Old  Peasant.     Your  presence  with  us,  this  glad 
day, 
W^e  take  it  very  kind,  indeed! 
In  truth  we've  found  you  long  ere  this 
In  evil  days  a  friend  in  need ! 
Full  many  a  one  stands  living  here. 
Whom,  at  death's  door  already  laid, 


56 


I. 


FAUST. 


Your  father  snatched  from  fever's  rage, 
When,  by  his  fkill,  the  plague  he  stayed. 
You,  a  young  man,  we  daily  saw- 
Go  with  him  to  the  pest-house  then,     . 
And  many  a  corpse  was  carried  forth. 
But  you  came  out  alive  again. 
With  a  charmed  life  you  passed  before  us, 
Helped  by  the  Helper  watching  o'er  us. 

JIL     The  well-tried  man,  and  may  he  live. 
Long  years  a  helping  hand  to  give ! 

Fauft.     Bow  down  to  Him  on  high  who  sends 

His  heavenly  help  and  helping  friends ! 

[lie  goes  on  ivitb  Wagner. 

Wagner.     What  feelings,  O  great  man,  thy  heart 
must  swell 
Thus  to  receive  a  people's  veneration ! 
O  worthy  all  congratulation. 
Whose  gifts  to  such  advantage  tell. 
The  father  to  his  son  fhows  thee  with  exultation, 
All  run  and  crowd  and  afk,  the  circle  closer  draws. 
The  fiddle  stops,  the  dancers  pause, 
Thou  goest — the  lines  fall  back  for  thee. 
They  fling  their  gay-decked  caps  on  high  ; 
A  little  more  and  they  would  bow  the  knee 
As  if  the  blessed  Host  came  by. 

Fauft,     A  few  steps  further  on,  until   we   reach 
that  stone  j 
There  will  we  rest  us  from  our  wandering. 


.*, 


FAUST. 


57 


[low  oft  in  prayer  and  penance  there  alone, 

Fasting,  I  sate,  on  holy  mysteries  pondering. 

There,  rich  in  hope,  in  faith  still  firm, 

I've  wept,  sighed,  wrung  my  hands  and  striven 

This  plague's  removal  to  extort  (poor  worm!) 

From  the  almighty  Lord  of  Heaven. 

The  crowd's  applause  has  now  a  scornful  tone ; 

O  couldst  thou  hear  my  conscience  tell  its  story. 

How  httle  either  sire  or  son 

Has  done  to  merit  such  a  glory ! 

My  father  was  a  worthy  man,  confused 

And  darkened  witft  his  narrow  lucubrations. 

Who  with  a  whimsical,  though  well-meant  pa- 
tience. 

On  Nature's  holy  circles  mused. 

Shut  up  in  his  black  laboratory, 

Experimenting  without  end, 

'Midst  his  adepts,  till  he  grew  hoary. 

He  sought  the  opposing  powers  to  blend. 

Thus,  a  red  lion,"  a  bold  suitor,  married 

The  silver  lily,  in  the  lukewarm  bath, 

And,  from  one  bride-bed  to  another  harried. 

The  two  were  seen  to  fly  before  the  flaming  wrath. 

If  then,  with  colors  gay  and  splendid, 

The  glass  the  youthful  queen  revealed, 

Here  was  the  physic,  death  the  patients'  sufferings 
ended. 

And  no  one  afked,  who  then  was  healed  ? 


S8 


FAUST. 


Thus,  with  ele(5luanes  so  Satanic, 
Worse  than  the  plague  with  all  its  panic. 
We  rioted  through  hill  and  vale  ; 

Myself,  with  my  own  hands,  the  drug  to  thousands 

giving, 
They  passed  away,  and  I  am  living 
To  hear  men's  thanks  the  murderers  hail ! 

Wagner.     Forbear!  far   other  name  that  service 
merits  I 
Can  a  brave  man  do  more  or  less 
Than  with  nice  conscientiousness 
To  exercise  the  calling  he  inherits^ 
If  thou,  as  youth,  thy  father  honorest. 
To  learn  from  him  thou  wilt  desire ; 
If  thou,  as  man,  men  with  new  light  hast  blest, 
Then  may  thy  son  to  loftier  heights  aspire. 

Fauft.     O  blest!  who  hopes  to  find  repose, 
Up  from  this  mighty  sea  of  error  divino- ! 
Man  cannot  use  what  he  already  knows, 
To  use  the  unknown  ever  striving. 
But  let  not  such  dark  thoughts  a  shadow  throw 
O'er  the  bright  joy  this  hour  inspires ! 
See  how  the  setting  sun,  with  ruddy  glow. 
The  green-embosomed  hamlet  fires ! 
He  sinks  and  fides,  the  day  is  lived  and  gone, 
He  hastens  forth  ntv/  scenes  of  life  to  waken. 
O  for  a  wing 'to  lift  and  bear  me  on, 
And  on,  to  where  his  last  rays  beckon ! 


FAUST. 


59 


Then  fhould  I  see  the  world's  calm  breast 
In  everlasting  sunset  glowing, 

The  summits  all  on  fire,  each  valley  steeped  in  rest, 
The  silver  brook  to  golden  rivers  flowing. 
No  savage  mountain  climbing  to  the  fkies 
Should  stay  the  godlike  course  with  wild  abysses ; 
And  now  the  sea,  with  Iheltering,  warm  recesses 
Spreads  out  before  the  astoniihed  eyes. 
At  last  it  seems  as  if  the  God  were  sinking  j 
But  a  new  impulse  fires  the  mind. 
Onward  I  speed,  his  endless  glory  drinking, 
The  day  before  me  and  the  night  behind, 
The  heavens  above  my  head  and  under  me  the  ocean. 
A  lovely  dream, — meanwhile  he's  gone  from  sight. 
Ah !  sure,  no  earthly  wing,  in  swiftest  flight. 
May  with  the  spirit's  wings  hold  equal  motion. 
Yet  has  each  soul  an  inborn  feeling 
Impelling  it  to  mount  and  soar  away. 
When,  lost  in  heaven's  blue  depths,  the  lark  Is  peal- 
ing 
High  overhead  her  airy  layj 

When  o'er  the  mountain  pine's  black  ftiadow. 
With  outspread  wing  the  eagle  sweeps. 
And,  steering  on  o'er  lake  and  meadow, 
The  crane  his  homeward  journey  keeps. 

IVagner.     I've  had  myself  full  many  a  wayward 
hour, 
But  never  yet  felt  such  a  passion's  power. 


6o 


FAUST. 


One  soon  grows  tired  of  field  and  wood  and  brook, 

I  envy  not  the  fowl  of  heaven  his  pinions. 

Far  nobler  joy  to  soar  through  thought's  dominions 

From  page  to  page,  from  book  to  book! 

Ah  I  winter  nights,  so  dear  to  mind  and  soul ! 

Warm,  blissful  life  through  all  the  limbs  is  thrilling. 

And  when  thy  hands  unfold  a  genuine  ancient  scroll, 

It  seems  as  if  all  heaven  the  room  were  filling. 

FauJ}.      One  passion  only  has  thy  heart  possessed  i 
The  other,  friend,  O,  learn  it  never ! 
Two  souls,  alas !  are  lodged  in  my  wild  breast. 
Which  evermore  opposing  ways  endeavor. 
The  one  lives  only  on  the  joys  of  time, 

Still  to  the  world  with  clamp-like  organs  clino-ing ; 
The  other  leaves  this  earthly  dust  and  flime. 
To  fields  of  sainted  sires  up-sprino-ino-. 
O,  are  there  spirits  in  the  air. 

That  empire  hold  'twixt  earth's  and  heaven's  domin- 

nions, 
Down  from  your  realm  of  golden  haze  repair. 
Waft  me  to  new,  rich  life,  upon  your  rosy  pinions! 
Ay  I  were  a  magic  mantle  only  mine. 

To  soar  o'er  earth's  wide  wildernesses, 

I  would  not  sell  it  for  the  costliest  dresses,      • 

Not  for  a  royal  robe  the  gift  resign. 

IVagner.       O,    call   them    not,    the    well    known 
powers  of  air. 

That  swarm  through  all  the  middle  kingdom,  weav- 
ing 


FAUST. 


6i 


1 


Their  fairy  webs,  with  many  a  fatal  snare 

The  feeble  race  of  men  deceiving. 

First,  the  fharp  spirit-tooth,  from  out  the  North, 

And  arrowy  tongues  and  fangs  come  thickly  ^y'n\g ; 

Then  from  the  East  they  greedily  dart  forth. 

Sucking  thy  lungs,  thy  life-juice  drying ; 

If  from  the  South  they  come  with  fever  thirst. 

Upon  thy  head  noon's  fiery  splendors  heaping  j 

The  Westwind  brings  a  swarm,  refrefhing  first. 

Then  all  thy  world  with  thee  in  stupor  steeping. 

They  listen  gladly,  aye  on  mischief  bent, 

Gladly  draw  near,  each  weak  point  to  espy, 

They  make  believe  that  they  from  heaven  are  sent. 
Whispering  like  angels,  while  thev  lie. 
But  let  us  go!      The  earth  looks  gray,  my  friend. 
The  air  grows  cool,  the  mists  ascend ! 
At  night  we  learn  our  homes  to  prize. — 
Why  dost  thou  stop  and  stare  with  all  thy  eyes  ? 
What  can  so  chain  thy  sight  there,  in  the  gloaming  ? 
Fauft,     Seest  thou  that  black  dog  through  stalks 
and  stubble  roaming  ? 

Wagner.     I  saw  him  some  time  since,  he  seemed 

not  strange  to  me. 
Fauft,      Look  fharply !     What  dost  take  the  beast 

to  be  ? 
TVagner,     For  some  poor  poodle  who  has  lost  his 

master. 
And,  dog-like,  scents  him  o'er  the  ground. 


62 


FAUST. 


Fauft.    A^arkst  thou  how,  ever  nearer,  ever  faster. 
Towards  us  his  spiral  track  wheels  round  and  round  ? 
And  if  my  senses  suffer  no  confusion, 
Behind  him  trails  a  fiery  glare. 

U  agner,     *  Fis  probably  an  optical  illusion  ; 
I  still  see  only  a  black  poodle  there. 

Fauft,      He  seems  to  me  as  he  were  tracing  flyly 
His  magic  rings  our  feet  at  last  to  snare. 

Wagner,     To  me  he  seems  to  dart  around  our 

steps  so  fhyly, 
As  if  he  said  :  is  one  of  them  my  master  there  ? 

Fauft,     The  circle  narrows,  he  is  near ! 

Wagner.     Thou  seest !  a  dog  we  have,  no  spectre, 
here! 
He  growls  and  stops,  crawls  on  his  belly,  too, 
And  wags  his  tail, — as  all  dogs  do. 

Fauft.     Come  here,  sir !  come,  our  comrade  be ! 

Wagner.     He  has  a  poodle's  drollery. 
Stand  still,  and  he,  too,  waits  to  see  ; 
Speak  to  him,  and  he  jumps  on  thee; 
Lose  something,  drop  thy  cane  or  fling  it 
Into  the  stream,  he'll  run  and  bring  it. 

Fauft.    I  think  you're  right ;  I  trace  no  spirit  here, 
*Tis  all  the  fruit  of  training,  that  is  clear. 

Wagner.      A  well-trained  dog  is  a  great  treasure. 
Wise  men  in  such  will  oft  take  pleasure. 
And  he  deserves  your  favor  and  a  collar, 
He,  of  the  ftudents  the  accomplifhcd  scholar. 
\They  go  in  through  the  tozun  gate.] 


FAUST, 


63 


t 


STUDY-CHAMBER. 

Enter  Faust  ivith  the  Poodle. 

I  leave  behind  me  field  and  meadowr 
Veiled  in  the  dufk  of  holy  night. 
Whose  ominous  and  awful  fhadow 
Awakes  the  better  soul  to  light. 
To  fleep  are  lulled  the  wild  desires, 
The  hand  of  passion  lies  at  refl ; 
The  love  of  man  the  bosom  fires, 
The  love  of  God  flirs  up  the  breall. 

Be  quiet,  poodle  !  what  worrisome  fiend  hath  pos- 

sefl  thee. 
Nosing  and  snuffling  so  round  the  door  ? 
Go  behind  the  flove  there  and  refl  thee. 
There's  my  befl  pillow—what  wouldfl  thou  more  ? 
As,  out  on  the  mountain-paths,  frifKing  and  leaping, 
Thou,  to  amuse  us,  hafl  done  thy  bef}, 
So  now  in  return  lie  flill  in  my  keeping, 
A  quiet,  contented,  and  welcome  guelK 

When,  in  our  narrow  chamber,  nightlv, 
The  friendly  lamp  begins  to  burn. 
Then  in  the  bosom  thought  beams  brightly. 
Homeward  the  heart  will  then  return. 


64 


FAUST. 


Reason  once  more  bids  passion  ponder, 
Hope  blooms  again  and  smiles  on  man  j 
Back  to  life's  rills  he  yearns  to  wander. 
Ah  !  to  the  source  where  life  began. 

Stop  growling,  poodle  !      In  the  music  Elysian 

That  laps  my  soul  at  this  holy  hour, 

These  beftial  noises  have  jarring  power. 

We  know  that  men  will  treat  with  derision 

Whatever  they  cannot  underfland, 

At  goodness  and  truth  and  beauty's  vision 

Will  fhut  their  eyes  and  murmui  and  howl  at  it; 

And  muft  the  dog,  too,  snarl  and  growl  at  it? 

But  ah,  with  the  befl  will,  I  feel  already, 
No  peace  will  well  up  in  me,  clear  and  fteady. 
But  why  muft  hope  so  soon  deceive  us. 
And  the  dried-up  ftream  in  fever  leave  us  ? 
For  in  this  I  have  had  a  full  probation. 
And  yet  for  this  want  a  supply  is  provided. 
To  a  higher  than  earth  the  soul  is  guided. 

We  are  ready  and  yearn  for  revelation  : 

And  where  are  its  light  and  warmth  so  blent 

As  here  in  the  New  Teftament  ? 

I  ftiely  this  moment,  a  mighty  yearning 

To  expound  for  once  the  ground  text  of  all. 

The  venerable  original 

Into  my  own  loved  German  honeftly  turning. 

[He  opens  the  i^olume,  and  applies  himself  to  the^'task.] 


I 


I 


i 


FAUST.  t>5 

"In  the  be^innins:  was  the  Word,^'*     I  read. 

But  here  I  ftick !      Who  helps  me  to  proceed  ? 

The  IVord — so  high  I  cannot — dare  not,  rate  it, 

I  muft,  then,  otherwise  translate  it, 

If  by  the  spirit  I  am  rightly  taught. 

It  reads  :  "  In  the  beginning  was  the  thought." 

But  ftudy  well  this  first  line's  lesson. 

Nor  let  thy  pen  to  error  overhaften  ! 

Is  it  the  thought  does  all  from  time's  firft  hour  ? 

"  In  the  beginning,"  read  then,  "  was  the  power^'^ 

Yet  even  while  I  write  it  down,  my  finger 

Is  checked,  a  voice  forbids  me  there  to  linger. 

The  spirit  helps  !     At  once  I  dare  to  read 

And  write  :   "  In  the  beginning  was  the  deed,** 

If  I  with  thee  muft  fhare  my  chamber, 
Poodle,  now,  remember. 
No  more  howling. 
No  more  growling ! 

1  had  as  lief  a  bull  fhould  bellow. 

As  have  for  a  chum  such  a  noisy  fellow. 

Stop  that  yell,  now. 

One  of  us  muft  quit  this  cell  now! 

*Tis  hard  to  retract  hospitality. 

But  the  door  is  open,  thy  way  is  free. 

But  what  ails  the  creature  ? 

Is  this  in  the  course  of  nature? 

Is  it  real  ?  or  one  of  Fancy's  fhows  ? 


66 


FAUST. 


How  long  and  broad  my  poodle  grows ! 

He  rises  from  the  ground  ; 

That  is  no  longer  the  form  of  a  hound  ! 

Heaven  avert  the  curse  from  us  ! 

He  looks  like  a  hippopotamus, 

With  his  iiery  eyes  and  the  terrible  white 

Of  his  grinning  teeth  !  oh  what  a  fright 

Have  I  brought  with  me  into  the  house  !     Ah  now, 

No  myftery  art  thou ! 

Methinks  for  such  half  hellifh  brood 

The  key  of  Solomon  were  good. 

Spirits  [in  the  passage].     Softly!  a  fellow  is  caught 
there  ! 
Keep  back,  all  of  you,  follow  him  not  there ! 
Like  the  fox  in  the  trap, 
Mourns  the  old  hell-lynx  his  mishap. 
But  give  ye  good  heed  ! 
This  way  hover,  that  way  hover, 
Over  and  over, 

And  he  fhall  right  soon  be  freed. 
Help  can  you  give  him, 
O  do  not  leave  him! 
Many  good  turns  he*s  done  us. 
Many  a  fortune  won  us. 

Fauft.     First,  to  encounter  the  creature 
By  the  spell  of  the  Four,  says  the  teacher : 


FAUST. 


67 


I 

*i 


Salamander  fhall  gliflen,^^ 
Undina  lapse  lightly. 
Sylph  vanifti  brightly, 
Kobold  quick  liften. 

He  to  whom  Nature 

Shows  not,  as  teacher. 
Every  force 
And  secret  source. 
Over  the  spirits 
No  power  inherits. 

Vanifh  in  glowing 

Flame,  Salamander! 

Inward,  spirally  flowing. 

Gurgle,  Undine! 

Gleam  in  meteoric  splendor, 

Airy  Queen ! 

Thy  homely  help  render, 

Incubus!  Incubus! 

Forth  and  end  the  charm  for  us ! 

No  kingdom  of  Nature 

Resides  in  the  creature. 

He  lies  there  grinning — 'tis  clear,  my  charm 

Has  done  the  monfter  no  mite  of  harm. 


I'll  try,  for  thy  curing, 
Stronger  adjuring. 


68 


FAUST. 


FAUST. 


6» 


Art  thou  a  jail-bird, 

A  runaway  hell-bird  ? 

This  sign,^3  then — adore  it ! 

They  tremble  before  it 

All  through  the  dark  dwelling. 

His  hair  is  bridling — his  body  swelling. 

Reprobate  creature  ! 
Canft  read  his  nature  ? 
The  Uncreated, 
Ineffably  Holy, 
With  Deity  mated, 
Sin's  victim  lowly  ? 

Driven  behind  the  ftove  by  my  spells. 

Like  an  elephant  he  swells  ; 

He  fills  the  whole  room,  so  huge  he's  grown. 

He  waxes  fhadowy  fafter  and  fafter. 

Rise  not  up  to  the  ceiling — down ! 

Lay  thyself  at  the  feet  of  thy  mailer ! 

Thou  seeft,  there's  reason  to  dread  my  ire. 

I'll  scorch  thee  with  the  holy  fire! 

Wait  not  for  the  sio-ht 

Of  the  thrice-glowing  light ! 

Wait  not  to  feel  the  micrht 

o 

Of  the  potenteft  spell  in  all  my  treasure  ! 


Mephistopheles. 

[^x  the  mist  sinks,  steps  forth  from  behind  the  stove,  dressed  as 

a  travelling  scholasticusi] 

Why  all  this  noise  ?     What  is  your  worfhip's  pleas- 


ure r 


? 


Fauft.     This  was  the  poodle's  essence  then  ! 
A  travelling  dark  ?     Ha !    ha !     The  casus  is  too 
funny. 

Mephijiopheles.     I  bow  to  the  moft  learned  among 
men  ! 
Taith  you  did  sweat  me  without  ceremony. 

Fauft.     What  is  thy  name  ? 

Mephijiopheles.     The  queftion  seems  too  small 
For  one  who  holds  the  word  so  very  cheaply, 
Who,  far  removed  from  ftiadows  all. 
For  subftances  alone  seeks  deeply. 

Fauft.      With  gentlemen  like  him  in  my  presence. 
The  name  is  apt  to  express  the  essence. 
Especially  if,  when  you  inquire. 

You  find  it  God  of  flies,^^  Deflroyer,  Slanderer,  Liar. 
Well  now,  who  art  thou  then  ? 

Mephijiopheles.     A  portion  of  that  power, 
Which  wills   the  bad  and  works  the  good  at  every 
hour. 

Fauft.      Beneath  thy  riddle-word  what  meaning 
lies  ? 

Alephi^opheles.      I  am  the  spirit  that  denies ! 
And  juftly  so  ;  for  all  that  time  creates, 


70 


FAUST. 


FAUST. 


71 


He  does  well  who  annihilates  ! 
Better,  it  ne'er  had  had  beginning ; 
And  so,  then,  all  that  you  call  sinning, 
DeftrucSlion, — all  you  pronounce  ill-meant, — 
Is  my  original  clement. 

Fauft.      Thou   cairft   thyself  a   part,   yet   lcx)i  ^1 
complete  to  me. 

Mephiftophelcs,     I  speak  the  modeft  truth  to  thee. 
A  world  of  folly  in  one  little  soul, 
Man  loves  to  think  himself  a  whole ; 
Part  of  the  part  am  I,  which  once  was  all,  the  Gloom 
That  brought  forth  Light  itself  from  out  her  mighty 

womb, 
The  upfl-art  proud,  that  now  with  mother  Night 
Disputes  her  ancient  rank  and  space  and  right. 
Yet  never  fhall  prevail,  since,  do  whate'er  he  will, 
He  cleaves,  a  slave,  to  bodies  flill ; 
From  bodies  flows,  makes  bodies  fair  to  sight ; 
A  body  in  his  course  can  check  him. 
His  doom,  I  therefore  hope,  will  soon  overtake  him, 
With  bodies  merged  in  nothingness  and  night. 

Fauft.     Ah,  now  I  see  thy  high  vocation! 
In  gross  thou  canft  not  harm  creation, 
And  so  In  small  haft  now  begun. 

Mephiftophelcs.     And,  truth  to  tell,  e'en  here,  not 
much  have  done. 
That  which  at  nothing  the  gauntlet  has  hurled. 
This,  what's  its  name  ?  this  clumsy  world, 


tc 

i 
// 

T 

teev 
H 

[ati 

;oll 

tih 

cc 

dl 


So  far  as  I  have  undertaken, 

I  have  to  own,  remains  unfhaken 

By  wave,  ftorm,  earthquake,  fiery  brand. 

Calm,  after  all,  remain  both  sea  and  land. 

And  the  damn'd  living  ftuff,  of  man  and   beaft   the 

brood, 
It  laughs  to  scorn  my  utmoft  power. 
I've  buried  myriads  by  the  hour, 
And    ft  ill   there    circulates    each   hour   a  new,    frefti 

blood. 
It  were  enough  to  drive  one  to  diftraillon! 
Earth,  water,  air,  in  conftant  a6lion. 
Through  molft  and  dry,  through  warm  and  cold. 
Going  forth  in  endless  germination! 
Had  I  not  claimed  of  fire  a  reservation. 
Not  one  thing  I  alone  fliould  hold. 

Fauft,     Thus,  with  the  ever-working  power 
Of  good  doft  thou  in  ftrlfe  persift. 
And  In  vain  malice,  to  this  hour, 
Clencheft  thy  cold  and  devilifti  fift ! 
Go  try  some  other  occupation. 
Singular  son  of  Chaos,  thou ! 

Mephiftopheles.  We'll  give  the  thing  consideration, 
When  next  we  meet  again !     But  now 
Might  I  for  once,  with  leave  retire  ? 

Fauft.     Why  thou  (houldft  afk  I  do  not  see. 

Now  that  I  know  thee,  when  desire 
Shall  prompt  thee,  freely  visit  me. 


72 


FAUST. 


Window  and  door  give  free  admission, 
At  leaft  there's  left  the  chimney  flue. 

Mephiftopheles.     Let  me  confess  there's  one  smaU 
prohibition 
Lies  on  thy  threfhold,  'gainft  my  walking  through, 
The  wizard-foot — i^ 

Pauft.  Does  that  delay  thee  ? 

The  Pentagram  difturbs  thee  ?     Now, 
Come  tell  me,  son  of  hell,  I  pray  thee. 
If  that  spell-binds  thee,  then  how  entercdft  thou? 
Thou  fhouldft  proceed  more  circumspe^ly  ! 

Mephiftopheles.       Mark    well!    the    figure    is    not 
drawn  correctly ; 
One  of  the  angles,  'tis  the  outer  one, 
Is  somewhat  open,  doft  perceive  it  ? 

Fauft.     That  was  a  lucky  hit,  believe  it! 
And  I  have  caught  thee  then  ?     Well  done ! 
'Twas  wholly  chance — I'm  quite  aftounded! 

Mephiftopheles.       The  poodle   took   no    heed,    as 
through  the  door  he  bounded  ; 
The  case  looks  differently  now  ; 
The  devil  can  leave  the  house  no-how. 

Fauft.     The  window  offers  free  emission. 

Mephiftopheles.     Devils  and  ghofts  are  bound  by 
this  condition  : 
The  way  they  entered  in,  they  mufl  come  out.  Allow 
In    the    firfl   clause   we're   free,   yet   not    so    in   the 
second. 


FAUST. 


73 


Fauft.      In  hell  itself,  then,  laws  are  reckoned  ? 
Now  that  I  like  ;  so  then,  one  may,  in  fact. 
Conclude  a  binding  compact  with  you  gentry  ? 

Mephiftopheles.      Whatever  promise  on  our  books 
finds  entrv. 
We  ftrictly  carry  into  a6l. 
But  herebv  hangs  a  grave  condition. 
Of  this  we'll  talk  when  next  we  meet ; 

But  for  the  present  I  entreat 

Mofl  urgentlv  your  kind  dismission. 

Fauft.      Do  flay  but  juft  one  moment  longer,  then, 
Tell  me  good  news  and  I'll  release  thee. 

Mephiftopheles.     Let  me  go  now  I     I'll  soon  come 
back  again, 
Then  may'fl  thou  afk  whate'er  fhall  please  thee. 

Fauft.      I  laid  no  snare  for  thee,  old  chap ! 
Thou  fhouldfl  have  watched  and  saved  thy  bacon. 
Who  has  the  devil  in  his  trap 

Muft   hold   him   f<xi):^  next  time  he'll  not  so  soon  be 
taken. 

Mephiftopheles,     Well,  if  it  please  thee,  Pm  con- 
tent to  flay 
For  company,  on  one  condition. 
That  I,  for  thy  amusement,  may 
To  exercise  my  arts  have  free  permission. 

Fauft.     I  gladly  grant  it,  if  they  be 

Not  disagreeable  to  me. 

Mephiftopheles.       Thy  senses,   friend,   in  this   one 
hour* 


74 


FAUST. 


Shall  grasp  the  world  with  clearer  power 
Than  in  a  year's  monotony. 
The  songs  the  tender  spirits  sing  thee. 
The  lovely  images  they  bring  thee 
Are  not  an  idle  magic  play. 
Thou  fhak  enjoy  the  daintieft  savor. 
Then  feaft  thy  tafte  on  richell:  flavor. 
Then  thy  charmed  heart  fhall  melt  away, 
Come,  all  are  here,  and  all  have  been 
Well  trained  and  practised,  now  begin! 
Spirits.     Vaniili,  ye  gloomy 
Vaulted  abysses! 
Tenderer,  clearer. 
Friendlier,  nearer, 
Ether,  look  through ! 
O  that  the  darkling 
Cloud-piles  were  riven ! 
Starlight  is  sparkling. 
Purer  is  heaven. 
Holier  sunlliine 
Softens  the  blue. 
Graces,  adorning 
Sons  of  the  morning — 
Shadowy  wavings— 
Float  along  over ; 
Yearnings  and  cravings 
After  them  hover. 
Garments  ethereal. 


FAUST. 

Tresses  aerial, 
Float  o'er  the  flowers, 
.Float  o'er  the  bowers. 
Where,  with  deep  feeling. 
Thoughtful  and  tender, 
Lovers,  embracing. 
Life-vows  are  sealing. 
Bowers  on  bowers ! 
Graceful  and  flender 
Vmes  interlacing! 
Purple  and  blufhing, 
Under  the  crufhino: 
Wine-presses  gufhing. 
Grape-blood,  overflowing, 
Down  over  gleaming 
Precious  ftones  ftreaming. 
Leaves  the  bright  glowing 
Tops  of  the  mountains. 
Leaves  the  red  fountains. 
Widening  and  rufhing, 
Till  it  encloses 
Green  hills  all  fluftiing. 
Laden  with  roses. 
Happy  ones,  swarming. 
Ply  their  swift  pinions. 
Glide  through  the  charming 
Airy  dominions, 
Sunward  flill  fleering. 


75 


76 


FAUST. 

Onward,  where  peering 
Far  o'er  the  ocean, 
Islets  are  dancing 
With  an  entrancing, 
Magical  motion  •, 
Hear  them,  in  chorus, 
Singing  high  o'er  us  ; 
Over  the  meadows 
Flit  the  bright  fhadows  ; 
Glad  eyes  are  glancing, 
Tiny  feet  dancing. 
Up  the  high  ridges 
Some  of  them  clamber. 
Others  are  (kimming 
Sky-lakes  of  amber. 
Others  are  swimming 
Over  the  ocean  ; — 
All  are  in  motion. 
Life-ward  all  yearning, 


^S 


I>ongingly  turning 
To  the  far-burning 
Star-light  of  bliss. 
Mcphijiopheles.    He  fleepsl  Ye  airy,  tender  youths, 
your  numbers 
Have  sung  him  into  sweeteft  flumbers! 
You  put  me  greatly  in  your  debt  by  this. 
Thou  art  not  yet  the  man  that  fhall  hold  faft  the 
devil ! 


FAUST. 


77 


Still  cheat  his  senses  with  your  magic  revel. 
Drown  him  in  dreams  of  endless  youth  ; 
But  this  charm-mountain  on  the  sill  to  level, 
I  need,  O  rat,  thy  pointed  tooth ! 
Nor  need  I  conjure  long,  they're  near  me. 
E'en  now  comes  scampering  one,  who  presently  wiL 
hear  me. 
The  sovereign  lord  of  rats  and  mice. 
Of  flies  and  frogs  and  bugs  and  lice, 
Commands  thee  to  come  forth  this  hour. 
And  gnaw  this  threfliold  with  great  power. 
As  he  with  oil  the  same  fhall  smear — 
Ha!  with  a  (kip  e'en  now  thou'rt  here  ! 
But  briflc  to  work!     The  point  by  which  I'm  cow- 
ered. 
Is  on  the  ledge,  the  fartheft  forward. 
Yet  one  more  bite,  the  deed  is  done. — 
Now,  Fauft,  until  we  meet  again,  dream  on  I 

FauJI.    [JVaking.]  Again  has  witchcraft  triumphe-l 

o'er  me  ? 
Was  it  a  ghoftly  fliow,  so  soon  withdrawn  ? 
I  dream,  the  devil  ftands  himself  before  me — 
I  wake,  to  fmd  a  poodle  gone  ! 


78 


FAUST. 


FAUST. 


79 


STUDY-CHAMBER. 


Faust.     Mephistopheles. 


FauJ}.     A  knock  ?     Walk  In  !     Who  comes  again 

to  tease  me  ? 
Mephiftopbeles.      'Tis  I. 
Faujl.     Come  in  ! 

Mephiftopbeles.     Mufl:  say  it  thrice,  to  please  me. 
FauJl,     Come  in  then  ! 

Mephiftopbeles.      That  I  like  to  hear. 
We  Ihall,  I  hope,  bear  with  each  other ; 
For  to  dispel  thy  crotchets,  brother, 
As  a  young  lord,  I  now  appear, 
In  scarlet  dress,  trimmed  with  gold  lacing, 
A  ftifFsilk  cloak  with  flylifh  facing, 
A  tall  cock's  feather  in  my  hat, 
A  long,  fharp  rapier  to  defend  me, 
And  I  advise  thee,  fhort  and  flat, 
In  the  same  coftume  to  attend  me  ; 
If  thou  wouldft,  unembarrassed,  see 
What  sort  of  thing  this  life  may  be. 

Faiifl.     In  every  dress  I  well  may  feel  the  sore 
Of  this  low  earth-life's  melancholy. 
I  am  ti)o  old  to  live  for  folly. 
Too  young,  to  wifh  for  nothing  more. 
Am  I  content  with  all  creation  ? 


Renounce  !  renounce  !     Renunciation — 
Such  is  the  everlafting  song 
That  in  the  ears  of  all  men  rings. 
Which  every  hour,  our  whole  life  long, 
With  brazen  accents  hoarsely  sings. 
With  terror  I  behold  each  morning's  light. 
With  bitter  tears  my  eyes  are  filling. 
To  see  the  day  tliat  fhall  not  in  its  flight 
Fulfil  for  me  one  wifh,  not  one,  but  killing 
Every  presentiment  of  zeft 
With  wayward  (kepticism,  chases 

The  fair  creations  from  my  breaft 
With  all  life's  thousand  cold  grimaces. 
And  when  at  night  I  ftretch  me  on  my  bed 
And  darkness  spreads  its  fhadow  o'er  me  ; 
No  reft  comes  then  anigh  my  weary  head. 
Wild  dreams  and  spedres  dance  before  me. 
The  God  who  dwells  within  my  soul 
Can  heave  its  depths  at  any  hour ; 
Who  holds  o'er  all  my  faculties  control 
Has  o'er  the  outer  world  no  power ; 
Exiftence  lies  a  load  upon  my  breaft, 
I.  ife  is  a  curse  and  death  a  long'd-for  reft. 

Mephiftopbeles.      And    yet   death   never  proves   a 
wholly  welcome  gueft. 

Faujl.     O  bleft  !   for  whom,  when  victory's  joy 
fire  blazes. 
Death  round  his  brow  the  bloody  laurel  windeth, 


m 


80 


FAUST. 


Whom,  weary  with  the  dance's  mazes, 
He  on  a  maiden's  bosom  hndeth. 

0  that,  beneath  the  exalted  spirit's  power, 

1  had  expired,  in  rapture  sinking  ! 

Mephiftophelcs.     And  yet  I   knew  one,  in  a  mid- 
night hour. 
Who  a  brown  liquid  fhrank  from  drinking. 

FauJ}.       Eaves-dropping    seems   a   favorite    game 
with  thee. 

Mephiftopheles.     Omniscient  am  I  not;  yet  much 
is  known  to  me. 

FauJ}.     Since  that  sweet  tone,  with  fond  appealing, 
Drew  me  from  witchcraft's  horrid  maze, 
And  woke  the  lingering  childlike  feeling 
With  harmonies  of  happier  days  ; 
My  curse  on  all  the  mock-creations 
That  weave  their  spell  around  the  soul. 
And  bind  it  with  their  incantations 
And  orgies  to  this  wretched  hole  ! 
Accursed  be  the  high  opinion 
Hugged  by  the  self-exalting  mind  ! 
Accursed  all  the  dream-dominion 
That  makes  the  dazzled  senses  blind  ! 
Curs'd  be  each  vision  that  befools  us. 
Of  fame,  outlafting  earthly  life  ! 
Curs'd  all  that,  as  possession,  rules  us, 
As  house  and  barn,  as  child  and  wife  ! 
Accurs'd  be  mammon,  when  with  treasure 


Woe! 


FAUST. 

He  fires  our  hearts  for  deeds  of  might. 
When,  for  a  dream  of  idle  pleasure. 
He  makes  our  pillow  smooth  and  light! 
Curs'd  be  the  grape-vine's  balsam-juices  ! 
On  love's  high  grace  my  curses  fall! 
On  faith  !     On  hope  that  man  seduces. 
On  patience  laft,  not  leaft,  of  all  1 

Choir  of  spirits.      [Invisible.]      Woe  ! 

Thou  haft  ground  it  to  duft. 

The  beautiful  world. 

With  mighty  fift  ; 

To  ruins  'tis  hurled; 

A  demi-god's  blow  hath  done  it! 

A  moment  we  look  upon  it. 

Then  carry  (sad  duty!) 

The  fragments  over  into  nothingness, 

With  tears  unavailing 

Bewailing 

All  the  departed  beauty. 

Lordlier 

Than  all  sons  oi  men, 

Proudlier 

Build  it  again. 

Build  it  up  in  thy  breaft  anew  ! 

A  frelh  career  pursue, 

Before  thee 

A  clearer  view. 

And,  from  the  Empyrean, 
6 


8t 


FAUST. 


83 


»2  FAUST. 

A  new-born  Pasan 
Shall  greet  thee,  too  ! 
Mephiftopheles.     Be  pleased  to  admire 
My  juvenile  choir! 

Hear  how  they  counsel  in  manly  measure 
Action  and  pleasure ! 
Out  into  life, 
Its  joy  and  ftiife, 
Away  from  this  lonely  hole. 
Where  senses  and  soul 
Rot  in  ftagnation, 
Calls  thee  their  high  invitation. 

Give  over  toying  with  thy  sorrow 

Which  like  a  vulture  feeds  upon  thy  heart  j 

Thou  fhalt,  in  the  worft  company,  to-morrow 

Feel  that  with  men  a  man  thou  art. 

Yet  I  do  not  exactly  intend 

Among  the  canaille  to  plant  thee. 

I'm  none  of  your  magnates,  I  grant  thee  ; 

Yet  if  thou  art  willing,  my  friend, 

Through  life  to  jog  on  beside  me. 
Thy  pleasure  in  all  things  fhall  guide  me. 
To  thee  will  I  bind  me, 
A  friend  thou  {halt  :  nd  me, 
And,  e'en  to  the  grave, 

Shalt  make  me  thy  servant,  make  me  thy  flave ! 
FauJI.      And  in  return  what  service  ftiall  I  render  ? 


i 


Meph'tjiopheles.     There's  ample  grace— no  hurry, 
not  the  leaft. 

FauJI.     No,  no,  the  devil  is  an  egotift. 
And  does  not  easily  "  for  God's  sake  "  tender 
That  which  a  neighbor  may  assift. 
Speak  plainly  the  conditions,  come  ! 
'Tis  dangerous  taking  such  a  servant  home. 

Mephljhpheles.     I  to  thy  service  here  agree  to  bmd 

me. 
To  run  and  never  reft  at  call  of  thee  ; 
When  over  yotider  thou  fhalt  find  me, 
Then  thou  fhalt  do  as  much  for  me. 

Faujl.    I  care  not  much  what's  over  yonder : 
When  thou  haft  knocked  this  world  asunder. 
Come  if  it  will  the  other  may  ! 
Up  from  this  earth  my  pleasures  all  are  ftreammg, 
Down  on  my  woes  this  earthly  sun  is  beaming  •, 
Let  me  but  end  this  fit  of  dreaming. 
Then  come  what  will,  Tve  nought  to  say. 
I'll  hear  no  more  of  barren  wonder 
If  in  that  world  they  hate  and  love, 
And  whether  in  that  future  yonder 
There's  a  Below  and  an  Above. 

M:phi/IopheIes,     In  such  a  mood  thou  well  mayft 

venture. 
Bind  thyself  to  me,  and  by  this  indenture 
Thou  ftialt  enjoy  with  reltfti  keen 
Fruits  of  my  arts  that  man  had  never  seen. 


84  FAUST. 

Fauft.     And  what  haft  thou  to  give,  poor  devil  ? 
Was  e'er  a  human  mind,  upon  its  lofty  level, 
Conceived  of  by  the  like  of  thee  ? 
Yet  haft  thou  food  that  brings  satiety. 
Not  satisfadion  ;  gold  that  reftlessly, 
Like  quicksilver,  melts  down  within 
The  hands  ;  a  game  in  which  men  never  win  j 
A  maid  that,  hanging  on  my  breaft. 
Ogles  a  neighbor  with  her  wanton  glances  ; 
Of  fame  the  glorious  godlike  zeft. 
That  like  a  fhort-lived  meteor  dances — 
Show  me  the  fruit  that,  ere  it's  plucked,  will  rot, 
And  trees  from  which  new  green  is  daily  peeping ! 

Mephiftopheles.   Such  a  requirement  scares  me  not  j 
Such  treasures  have  I  in  my  keeping. 
Yet  fhall  there  also  come  a  time,  good  friend. 
When  we  may  feaft  on  good  things  at  our  leisure. 
Fauft.     If  e'er  I   lie  content  upon   a   lounge   of 
pleasure- 
Then  let  there  be  of  me  an  end  ! 
When  thou  with  flattery  canft  cajole  me, 
Tin  I  self-satisfied  fliall  be. 
When  thou  with  pleasure  canft  befool  me, 
Be  that  the  laft  of  days  for  me  ! 
I  lay  the  wager  ! 

Mephiftopheles,      Done ! 
Fauft.      And  heartily  ! 
Whenever  to  the  passing  hour 


FAUST. 


8s 


I 


I  cry  :  O  ftay  !  thou  art  so  fair  ! 
To  chain  me  down  I  give  thee  power 
To  the  black  bottom  of  despair  ! 
Then  let  my  knell  no  longer  linger, 

Then  from  my  service  thou  art  free. 
Fall  from  the  clock  the  index-finger. 
Be  time  all  over,  then,  for  me  ! 

Mephiftopheles.      Think  well,   for  we   ftiall    hold 
you  to  the  letter. 

Fauft.     Full  right  to  that  juft  now  I  gave ; 
I  spoke  not  as  an  idle  braggart  better. 
Henceforward  I  remain  a  flave. 
What  care  I  who  puts  on  the  fetter  ? 

Mepmftopheles.      I  ftiall  this  very  day,  at  Doaor's- 

feaft,i« 
My  bounden  service  duly  pay  thee. 
But  one  thing'.— For  insurance'  sake,  I  pray  thee. 
Grant  me  a  line  or  two,  at  leaft. 

Fauft.     Pedant !  will  writing  gain  thy  faith,  alone  ? 
In  all  thy  life,  no  man,  nor  man's  word   haft  thou 

known  ? 
Is*t  not  enough  that  I  the  fatal  word 
That  passes  on  my  future  days  have  spoken  ? 
The  world-ftream  raves  and  rufties  (haft  not  heard?) 
And  ftiall  a  promise  hold,  unbroken  ? 
Yet  this  delusion  haunts  the  human  breaft. 
Who  from  his  soul  its  roots  would  sever  ? 
Thrice  happy  in  whose  heart  pure  truth  finds  reft. 


86 


FAUST. 


FAUST. 


87 


No  sacrifice  {hall  he  repent  of  ever  ! 
But  from  a  formal,  written,  sealed  atteft. 
As  from  a  speilre,  all  men  fhrink  forever. 
The  word  and  spirit  die  together. 
Killed  by  the  sight  of  wax  and  leather. 
'  What  wilt  thou,  evil  sprite,  from  me  ? 
Brass,  marble,  parchment,  paper,  fhall  it  be  ? 
Shall  I  subscribe  with  pencil,  pen  or  graver  ? 
Among  them  all  thy  choice  is  free. 

Mephiftopheles.      This  rhetoric  of  thine  to  me 
Hath  a  somewhat  bombaftic  savor. 
Anv  small 'Scrap  of  paper's  good. 
Thy  signature  will  need  a  single  drop  of  blood. ^^ 

Fauft.     If  this  will  satisfy  thy  mood,  • 

I  v.'ill  consent  thy  whim  to  favor. 

Mephiftopheles.      Quite  a  peculiar  juice  Is  blood. 

Faiift.     Fear  not  that  I  fhall  break  this  bond  j  O, 
never  ! 
My  promise,  rightly  underflood. 
Fulfils  my  nature's  whole  endeavor. 
I've  pufFed  myself  too  high,  I  see  ; 
To  thy  rank  only  I  belong. 

The  Lord  of  Spirits  scorneth  me. 
Nature,  ftiut  up,  resents  the  wrong. 
The  thread  of  thought  is  snapt  asunder. 
All  science  to  me  is  a  ftupid  blunder. 
Let  us  in  sensuality's  deep 
Quench  the  passions  within  us  blazing ! 


»    ^ 


And,  the  veil  of  sorcery  raising, 
Wake  each  miracle  from  its  long  fleep  ! 
Plunge  we  into  the  billowy  dance. 
The  rulh  and  roll  of  time  and  chance ! 
Then  may  pleasure  and  diftress, 
Disappointment  and  success. 

Follow  each  other  as  faft  as  they  will ; 

Man's  reftless  adivity  flourifties  ftill. 

Mephiftopheles.     No  bound  or  goal  Is  set  to  you; 

Where'er  you  like  to  wander  sipping. 

And  catch  a  tit-bit  in  your  fkipping. 

Eschew  all  coyness,  juft  fall  to. 

And  may  you  find  a  good  digeftion  ! 

FaufU     Now,  once  for  all,  pleasure  is  not  the 

queftion. 
I'm  sworn  to  passion's  whirl,  the  agony  of  bliss, 
The  lover's  hate,  the  sweets  of  bitterness. 
My  heart,  no  more  by  pride  of  science  driven. 
Shall  open  wide  to  let  each  sorrow  enter, 
And  all  the  good  that  to  man's  race  is  given, 
I  will  enjoy  it  to  my  being's  centre. 
Through  life's  whole  range,  upward  and  downward 
sweeping, 

Their  weal  and  woe  upon  my  bosom  heaping. 
Thus  in  my  single  self  their  selves  all  comprehending 
And  with  them  in  a  common  (hipwreck  ending. 
Mephiftopheles,     O  u-uft  me,  who  since  firft  I  feU 
from  heaven. 


FAUST. 


89 


88 


FAUST. 


Have  chewed  this   tough   meat   many  a   thousand 

year, 
No  man  digefls  the  ancient  leaven, 
No  mortal,  from  the  cradle  to  the  bier. 
Truft  one  of  us — the  whole  creation 
To  God  alone  belongs  by  right ; 
He  has  in  endless  day  his  habitation, 
Us  He  hath  made  for  utter  night, 
Tou  for  alternate  dark  and  light. 
Fauft.     But  then  I  will! 
Mephiftopheles.     Now  that's  worth  hearing  ! 
But  one  thing  haunts  me,  the  old  song. 

That  time  is  fhort  and  art  is  long. 

You  need  some  flight  advice,  I'm  fearing. 

Take  to  you  one  of  the  poet-feather. 

Let  the  gentleman's  thought,  far-sweeping. 

Bring  all  the  nobleft  traits  together, 

On  your  one  crown  their  honors  heaping. 

The  lion's  mood 

The  flag's  rapidity. 

The  fiery  blood  of  Italy, 

The  Northman's  hardihood. 

Bid  him  teach  thee  the  art  of  combining 

Greatness  of  soul  with  fly  designing. 

And  how,  with  warm  and  youthful  passion, 

To  fall  in  love  by  plan  and  fafhion. 

Should  like,  myself,  to  come  across  'm, 

Would  name  him  Mr.  Microcosm. 


^.^; 


Fauft,     What  am  I  then  ?   if  that  for  which  my 

heart 
Yearns  with  invincible  endeavor. 
The  crown  of  man,  mufl  hang  unreached  forever  ? 
Mephiftopheles.     Thou  art  at  lafl-j^ft  ^^^^  ^^^^ 

art. 
Pile   perukes   on   thy   head   whose   curls    cannot  be 

counted. 
On  yard-high  bulkins  let  thy  feet  be  mounted. 
Still  thou  art  only  what  thou  art. 

Fauft,      Yes,  I   have   vainly,  let   me   not   deny 

it. 

Of  human  learning  ransacked  all  the  ftores. 

And  when,  at  laft,  I  set  me  down  in  quiet, 
There  guflies  up  within  no  new-born  force  j 
I  am  not  by  a  hair's-breadth  higher. 
Am  to  the  Infinite  no  nigher. 

Mephiftopheles,     My  worthy  sir,  you  see  the  mattei 

As  people  generally  see  ; 

But  we  mufl  learn  to  take  things  better. 

Before  life  pleasures  wholly  flee. 

The  deuce  I  thy  head  and  all  that's  in  it. 

Hands,  feet  and are  thine; 

What  I  enjoy  with  zeft  each  minute, 

Is  surely  not  the  less  mine  ? 

If  I've  six  horses  in  my  span. 

Is  it  not  mine,  their  every  power  ? 

I  fly  along  as  an  undoubted  man. 


f 


90 


FAUST. 


91 


FAUST. 


On  four  and  twenty  legs  the  road  I  scour. 

Cheer  up,  then  I  let  all  thinking  be, 

And  out  into  the  world  with  me! 

I  tell  thee,  friend,  a  speculating  churl . 

Is  like  a  beaft,  some  evil  spirit  chases 

Along  a  barren  heath  in  one  perpetual  whirl, 

While  round  about  lie  fair,  green  pafturing  places. 

Fauft.     But  how  fhall  we  begin  ? 

Mephiftopheles.      We  sally  forth  e'en  now. 
What  martyrdom  endureft  thou ! 
What  kind  of  life  is  this  to  be  living, 
Ennui  to  thyself  and  youngfters  giving  ? 
Let  Neighbor  Belly  that  way  go! 
To  flay  here  threfhing  ftraw  why  car' ft  thou  ? 
The  beft  that  thou  canft  think  and  know 
To  tell  the  boys  not  for  the  whole  world  dar'fl  thou. 
E'en  now  I  hear  one  in  the  entry. 

Fauft.      I  have  no  heart  the  youth  to  see. 

Mephiftopheles.     The  poor  boy  waits  there  like  a 
sentry, 
He  fhall  not  want  a  word  from  me. 
Come,  give  me,  now,  thy  robe  and  bonnet ;. 
This  mafk  will  suit  me  charmingly. 

[He  puts  them  on.'\ 
Now  for  my  wit — rely  upon  it! 
'Twill  take  but  fifteen  minutes,  I  am  sure. 
Meanwhile  prepare  thyself  to  make  the  pleasant  tour ! 

[Exit  Faust. 


Mephiftopheles  [in  Faust's  long  gown].     Only  de- 
spise  all  human  wit  and  lore. 
The  higheft  flights  that  thought  can  soar— 
Let  but  the  lying  spirit  blind  thee. 
And  with  his  spells  of  witchcraft  bind  thee, 
Into  my  snare  the  victim  creeps. — 
To  him  has  deftiny  a  spirit  given, 
That  unreftraincdly  ftill  onward  sweeps. 
To  scale  the  flcies  long  since  hath  ftriven, 
And  all  earth's  pleasures  overleaps. 

He  fhall  through  life's  wild  scenes  be  driven. 

And  through  its  flat  unmeaningness, 

I'll  make  him  writhe  and  ftare  and  ftifFen, 

And  midft  all  sensual  excess, 

His  fevered  lips,  with  thirft  all  parched  and  riven, 

Insatiably  fhall  haunt  refrefhm.ent's  brink ; 

And  had  he  not,  himself,  his  soul  to  Satan  given. 

Still  muft  he  to  perdition  sink ! 

[Enter  a  Scholar.] 

Scholar.     I  have  but  lately  left  my  home, 
And  with  profound  submission  come, 
To  hold  with  one  some  conversation 
Whom  all  men  name  with  veneration. 

Mephiftopheles.    Your  courtesy  greatly  flatters  me 
A  man  like  many  another  you  see. 

Have  you  made  any  apphcations  elsewhere  ? 

Scholar.     Let  me,  I  pray,  your  teachings  fhare ! 
With  all  good  dispositions  I  come, 


92 


FAUST. 


A  frefh  young  blood  and  money  some ; 
My  mother  would  hardly  hear  of  my  going  ; 
But  I  long  to  learn  here  something  worth  knowing. 
Mephiftopheles.      You've  come  to  the   very   place 

for  it,  then. 
Scholar.     Sincerely,  could  wifh  I  were  ofF  again  ; 
My  soul  already  has  grown  quite  weary 
Of  walls  and  halls,  so  dark  and  dreary. 
The  narrowness  oppresses  me. 
One  sees  no  green  thing,  not  a  tree. 
On  the  le£lure-seats,  I  know  not  what  ails  me, 
Sight,  hearing,  thinking,  every  thing  fails  me. 

Mephiftopheles.      'Tis  all  in  use,  we  daily  see. 
The  child  takes  not  the  mother's  breaft 
In  the  firft  inftance  willingly. 
But  soon  it  feeds  itself  with  zeft. 
So  you  at  wisdom's  breaft  your  pleasure 
Will  daily  find  in  growing  measure. 

Scholar.       VW    hang    upon   her  neck,   a   raptured 
wooer. 
But  only  tell  me,  who  fhall  lead  me  to  her? 

Mephiftopheles.       Ere   you   go   further,   give   your 
views 
As  to  which  faculty  you  choose  ? 

Scholar.     To  be  right  learnM  I've  long  desired, 
And  of  the  natural  world  aspired 
To  have  a  perfe(!^  comprehension 
In  this  and  in  the  heavenly  sphere. 


FAUST. 


93 


Mephiftopheles.     1  see  you're  on  the  right  track 

here  ; 
But  you'll  have  to  give  undivided  attention. 

Scholar.     My  heart   and  soul   in  the  work  11  be 
found  ; 
Only,  of  course,  it  would  give  me  pleasure, 
When  summer  holidays  come  round. 
To  have  for  amusement  a  little  leisure. 

Mephiftopheles.       Use    well   the    precious    time,  it 
flips  away  so. 
Yet  method  gains  you  time,  if  I  may  say  so. 
I  counsel  you  therefore,  my  wbrthy  friend, 
The  logical  leaures  firft  to  attend. 
Then  il  your  mind  well  trained  and  cased 
In  Spanifti  boots,^«  all  snugly  laced. 
So  that  henceforth  it  can  creep  ahead 
On  the  road  of  thought  with  a  cautious  tread, 
And  not  at  random  fhoot  and  ftrike, 
Zig-zagging  Jack-o'-lanthorn-like. 
Then  will  you  many  a  day  be  taught 
That  what  you  once  to  do  had  thought 
Like  eating  and  drinking,  extempore, 
Requires  the  rule  of  one,  two,  three. 
It  is,  to  be  sure,  with  the  fabric  of  thought. 
As  with  the  chef^ceuvre  by  weavers  wrought, 
Where  a  thousand  threads  one  treadle  plies, 
Backward  and  forward  the  ftiuttles  keep  gomg. 
Invisibly  the  threads  keep  flowing. 


94 


FAUST. 


One  ftroke  a  thousand  faftenings  ties  : 

Comes  the  philosopher  and  cries : 

I'll  fhow  you,  it  could  not  be  otherwise: 

7'he  firft  being  so,  the  second  so,. 

The  third  and  fourth  muft  of  course  be  so ; 

And  were  not  the  firfl:  and  second,  you  see, 

The  third  and  fourth  could  never  be. 

The  scholars  everywhere  call  this  clever, 

But  none  have  yet  become  weavers  ever. 

Whoever  will  know  a  live  thing  and  expound  it, 

Firft  kills  out  the  spirit  it  had  when  he  found  it ; 

And  then  the  parts  are  all  in  his  hand, 

Minus  only  the  spiritual  band ! 

Encheiresin  natur.-e's  ^^  the  chemical  name. 

By  which  dunces  themselves  unwittingly  fhame. 

Scholar.      Cannot  entirely  comprehend  you. 

Mephiftopheles.     Better  success  will  fhortly  attend 


ou, 


y 

When  you  learn  to  analyze  all  creation 
And  give  it  a  proper  classification. 

Scholar.     I  feel  as  confused  by  all  you've  said, 
As  if 'twere  a  mill-wheel  going  round  in  my  head! 

Mephiftopheles.      The  next  thing   moft  important 
to  mention. 
Metaphysics  will  claim  your  attention  ! 

There  see  that  you  can  clearly  explain 
What  fits  not  into  the  human  brain  : 
For  that  which  will  not  go  into  the  head, 
A  pompous  word  will  ftand  you  in  flead. 


FAUST. 


95 


But,  this  half-year,  at  leafl,  observe 

From  regularity  never  to  swerve. 

You'll  have  live  leaures  every  day  ; 

Be  in  at  the  ftroke  of  the  bell  I  pray ! 

And  well  prepared  in  every  part  j 

Study  each  paragraph  by  heart. 

So  that  you  scarce  may  need  to  look 

To  see  that  he  says  no  more  than's  in  the  book  i 

And  when  he  diaates,  be  at  your  pofl. 

As  if  you  wrote  for  the  Holy  GhoftI 

Scholar.      That  caution  is  unnecessary  I 
I  know  it  profits  one  to  write, 
For  what  one  has  in  black  and  white, 
He  to  his  home  can  safely  carry. 

Mephiftopheles.     But  choose  some  faculty,  I  pray  ! 
Scholar.     I  feel  a  ftrong  dislike  to  try  the  legal 

college. 
Mephiftopheles.      I  cannot  blame  you  much,  I  mufl 
acknowledge. 
I  know  how  this  profession  flands  to-day. 
Statutes  and  laws  through  all  the  ages 
Like  a  transmitted  malady  you  trace ; 
In  every  generation  flill  it  rages 
And  softly  creeps  from  place  to  place. 
Reason  is  nonsense,  right  an  impudent  suggeflion ; 
Alas  for  thee,  that  thou  a  grandson  art ! 
Of  inborn  law  in  which  each  man  has  part. 
Of  that,  unfortunately,  there's  no  queftion. 


I 


06  FAUST. 

Scholar.     My  loathing  grows  beneath  your  speech. 
O  happy  he  whom  you  Ihall  teach . 
To  try  theology  Pm  almoft  minded. 

Mephlftopheles,      I    mull:  not   let  you  by  zeal  be 
blinded. 
This  is  a  science  through  whose  field 
Nine  out  often  in  the  wrong  road  will  blunder, 
And  in  it  so  much  poison  lies  concealed, 
That  ihould  you  this  mistake  for  physic,  no  great 

wonder. 
Here  also  it  were  beft,  if  only  one  you  heard 
And  swore  to  that  one  mafter's  word. 
Upon  the  whole — words  only  heed  you! 
These  through  the  temple  door  will  lead  you 
Safe  to  the  fhrine  of  certainty. 

Scholar.   Yet  in  the  word  a  thought  muft  surely  be. 
Meph'iftopheles.      All  right!  But  one  mufl  not  per- 
plex himself  about  it ; 
For  juft  where  one  muft  go  without  it, 
The  word  comes  in,  a  friend  in  need,  to  thee. 
With  words  can  one  dispute  moft  featly, 
With  words  build  up  a  syftem  neatly, 
In  words  thy  faith  may  ftand  unlhaken. 
From  words  there  can  be  no  iota  taken. 

Scholar.      Forgive    my  keeping   you   with    many 
queftions. 
Vet  muli  1  trouble  you  once  more. 
Will  you  not  give  me,  on  the  score 


FAUST. 


97 


Of  medicine,  some  brief  suggeftions  ? 
Three  years  are  a  ftlort  time,  O  God . 
And  then  the  field  is  quite  too  broad. 
If  one  had  only  before  his  nose 
Something  else  as  a  hint  to  follow!— 

Mephiftopheles  [aside].     Fm  heartily   tired  of  this 
dry  prose, 
Muft  play  the  devil  again  out  hollow. 

[Aloud.] 
The  healing  art  is  quickly  comprehended  ; 
Through  great  and  little  world  you  look  abroad. 
And  let  it  wag,  when  all  is  ended, 
As  pleases  God. 

Vain  is  it  that  your  science  sweeps  the  ikies, 
Each,  after  all,  learns  only  what  he  can ; 
Who  grasps  the  moment  as  it  flies 
He  is  the  real  man. 
Your  person  somewhat  takes  the  eye, 

Boldness  you'll  find  an  easy  science, 
And  if  you  on  yourself  rely. 
Others  on  you  will  place  reliance. 
In  the  women's  good  graces  seek  firft  to  be  seated  ; 
Their  oh's  and  ah's,  well  known  of  old. 
So  thousand-fold. 

Are  all  from  a  single  point  to  be  treated  ; 
Be  decently  modeft  and  then  with  ease 
You  may  get  the  blind  side  of  them  when  you  please. 
A  title,  firft,  their  confidence  muft  waken, 

7 


gg  FAUST. 

That  your  art  many  another  art  transcends, 

Then    may    you,    lucky    man,    on    all    those    trifles 

reckon 
For  which  another  years  of  groping  spends  : 
Know  how  to  press  the  little  pulse  that  dances, 
And  fearlessly,  with  fly  and  fiery  glances. 
Clasp  the  dear  creatures  round  the  waift 
To  see  how  tightly  they  are  laced. 

Scholar.     This   promises!      One  loves   the  How 
and  Where  to  see ! 

Mephiftophelcs,     Gray,  worthy  friend,  is  all  your 

theory 
And  green  the  golden  tree  of  life. 

Scholar,  '  I  seem, 

I  swear  to  you,  like  one  who  walks  in  dream. 
Might  I  another  time,  without  encroaching, 
Hear  you  the  deepefl:  things  of  wisdom  broaching  ? 

Mephiftophelcs,     So  far  as  I  have  power,  you  may. 

Scholar.     I  cannot  tear  myself  away. 

Till  I  to  you  my  album  have  presented. 

Grant  me  one  line  and  Pm  contented ! 

Mephiftophelcs.      With  pleasure. 

\jrrites  and  returns  it. 

Scholar  [reads].    Eritis  sicut  Deus,  scientes  bonum 

et  malum. 

[Shuts  it  re'verently,  and  botvs  himself  out. 

Mephiftophelcs.      Let  but   the   brave   old   saw  and 

my  aunt,  the  serpent,  guide  thee. 


FAUST. 


99 


¥ 


'-1 


And,  with  thy  likeness  to  God,  fhall  woe  one  day 
betide  thee! 

Faift  [enters].     Which  v/ay  now  fliall  we  go? 

Mephiftophelcs.      Which  v/ay  it  pleases  thee. 
The  little  world  and  then  the  great  we  see. 

0  with  what  gain,  as  well  as  pleasure. 
Wilt  thou  the  rollicking  cursus  measure ! 

Fauft.  I  fear  the  easy  life  and  free 
With  my  long  beard  will  scarce  agree. 
*Tis  vain  for  me  to  think  of  succeeding, 

1  never  could  learn  what  is  called  good-breeding. 
In  the  presence  of  others  I  feel  so  small  j 

I  never  can  be  at  my  ease  at  all. 

Mephiftophelcs,     Dear  friend,  vain  trouble  to  your- 
self you're  giving  \ 
Whence  once  you  trufl  yourself,  you  know  the  art 
of  living. 

Fauft,     But  how  are  we  to  ftart,  I  pray  ? 
Where  are  thy  servants,  coach  and  horses  ? 

Mephijlopheles,     We  spread  the  mantle,  and  away 
It  beirs  us  on  our  airy  courses. 
But,  on  this  bold  excursion,  thou 
Muft  take  no  great  portmanteau  now. 
A  little  oxygen,  which  I  will  soon  make  ready. 
From  earth  uplifts  us,  quick  and  fteady. 
And  if  we're  light,  v/e'll  soon  surmount  the  sphere; 
I  give  thee  hearty  joy  in  this  thy  new  career. 


100 


FAUST. 


AUERBACII'S    CELLAR    IN    LEIPSIC. 
Carousal  of  yolly  Companions. 

Frosch,'^^  Will  nobody  drink  ?  Stop  those  grimaces ! 
Pll  teach  you  how  to  be  cutting  your  faces ! 
Laugh  out!     You're  like  wet  ftraw  to-day, 
And  blaze,  at  other  times,  like  dry  hay. 

Brander.     'Tis  all  your  fault ;  no  food  for  fun  you 

bring. 
Not  a  nonsensical  nor  nafty  thing. 

Frosch  \(lajhes  a  glass  of  wine  over  his  head].  There 

you  have  both ! 
Brander.  You  liog  twice  o'er ! 

Frosch.      You  wanted  it,  what  would  you  more  ? 
Siebel.     Out  of  the  door  with  them  that  brawl! 
Strike  up  a  round  \  swill,  fhout  there,  one  and  all ! 
Wake  up!      Hurra! 

Altmayer.     Woe*s  me,  Pm  loft !     Bring  cotton ! 
The  rascal  splits  my  ear-drum, 

Siebel.  Only  fhout  on ! 

When  all  the  arches  ring  and  yell. 
Then  does  the  base  make  felt  its  true  ground-swell. 

Frosch.     That's   right,  jufc   throw    him   out,  who 
undertakes  to  fret ! 
A  I  tara  I  lara  da  I 

Altmayer.     A  !  tara  !  lara  da ! 

Frosch,  Our  whiftles  all  are  wet. 


FAUST. 


lOI 


[Slngs:\ 

The  dear  old  holy  Romifti  realm, 
What  holds  it  ftill  together  ? 
Brander.     A  sorry  song!     Fie !  a  political  song! 
A  tiresome  song !     Thank  God  each  morning  there- 
for, 
That  you  have  not  the  Romifh  realm  to  care  for! 
At  leaft  I  count  it  a  great  gain  that  He 
Kaiser  nor  chancellor  has  made  of  me. 
E'en  we  can't  do  without  a  head,  however  j 
To  choose  a  pope  let  us  endeavour. 
You  know  v/hat  qualification  throws 
The  cafting  vote  and  the  true  man  fhows. 

Frosch  [sings\.     Lady  Nightingale,  upward  soar. 

Greet  me  my  darling  ten  thousand  times  o'er. 
Siebel.     No  greetings  to  that  girl !     Who  does  so, 

I  resent  it! 
Frosch.     A  greeting  and  a  kiss !     And  you  will  not 
prevent  it! 

[Sings.] 

Draw  the  bolts  !  the  night  is  clear. 
Draw  the  bolts !     Love  watches  near. 
Close  the  bolts  !  the  dawn  is  here. 
Siebel     Ay,  sing  away  and  praise  and  glorify  your 
dear! 
Soon  I  fhall  have  my  time  for  laughter. 
The  jade  has  jilted  me,  and  will  you  too  hereafter; 
May  Kobold,  for  a  lover,  be  her  luck ! 


102 


FAUST. 


f 


At  night  may  he  upon  the  cross-way  meet  her ; 
Or,  coming  from  the  Blocksberg,  some  old  buck 
May,  as  he  gallops  by,  a  good-night  bleat  her! 
A  fellow  fine  of  real  flefh  and  blood 
Is  for  the  wench  a  deal  too  good. 
She'll  get  from  me  but  one  love-token. 
That  is  to  have  her  window  broken  ! 

Brandcr  [ftriking  on  the  table\.     Attend  I  attend! 
To  me  give  ear  I 
1  know  what's  life,  ye  gents,  confess  it : 
We've  lovesick  people  sitting  near, 
And  it  is  proper  they  fhould  hear 
A  orood-night  ftrain  as  well  as  I  can  dress  it. 
Give  heed!     And  hear  a  bran-new  song! 
Join  in  the  chorus  loud  and  ftrong! 

\IIe  sings!] 
A  rat  in  the  cellar  had  built  his  neft, 
He  daily  grew  fleeker  and  smoother. 
He  lined  his  paunch  from  larder  and  cheft, 
And  was  portly  as  Doctor  Luther. 
The  cook  had  set  him  poison  one  day  ; 
From  that  time  forward  he  pined  away 
As  if  he  had  love  in  his  body. 

Chorus  \Jhoutlng\.     As  if  he  had  love  in  his  body. 

Brander.     He  raced  about  with  a  terrible  touse, 
From  all  the  puddles  went  swilling, 
He  gnawed  and  he  scratched  all  over  the  house, 
His  pain  there  was  no  fcilling  ; 


FAUST. 


103 


'i 


He  made  full  many  a  jump  of  diftress. 
And  soon  the  poor  beaft  got  enough,  I  guess. 
As  if  he  had  love  in  his  body. 
Chorus,     As  if  he  had  love  in  his  body. 
Brander,     With  pain  he  ran,  in  open  day. 
Right  up  into  the  kitchen  ; 
He  fell  on  the  hearth  and  there  he  lay 
Gasping  and  moaning  and  twitchin*. 
Then  laughed  the  poisoner  :  "  He  !   he !  he ! 
He's  piping  on  the  laft  hole,"  said  ihe, 
"As  if  he  had  love  in  his  body." 
Chorus.      As  if  he  had  love  in  his  body. 
Siehel,     Jufl  hear  now  how  the  ninnies  giggle! 
That's  what  I  call  a  genuine  art. 
To  make  poor  rats  with  poison  wriggle ! 

Brander,     You  take  their  case  so  much  to  heart  ? 
Altmayer,     The  bald  pate  and  the  butter-belly ! 
The  sad  tale  makes  him  mild  and  tame  ; 
He  sees  in  the  swollen  rat,  poor  fellow ! 
His  own  true  likeness  set  in  a  frame. 

Faust  and  Mephistopheles. 

Mephiftopheles,     Now,  firft  of  all,  'tis  necessary 
To  fhow  you  people  making  merry, 
That  you  may  see  how  lightly  life  can  run. 
Each  day  to  this  small  folk's  a  feaft  of  fun ; 
Not  over-witty,  self-contented, 
Still  round  and  round  in  circle-dance  they  whirl. 
As  with  their  tails  young  kittens  twirl. 


104 


FAUST. 


If  with  no  headache  they're  tormented, 
Nor  dunned  by  landlord  for  his  pay, 
They're  careless,  unconcerned,  and  gay. 

Brander.      They're   frefh   from  travel,  one   might 
know  it. 
Their  air  and  manner  plainly  thow  it  j 
They  came  here  not  an  hour  ago. 

Froich,     Thou  verily  art  right!     My  Leipsic  well 
I  know! 
Paris  in  small  it  is,  and  cultivates  its  people. 
Siehel.     What  do  the  ftrangers  seem  to  thee  ? 
Froich,    Juft  let  me  go !    When  wine  our  friend- 

fhip  mellows. 
Easy  as  drawing  a  child's  tooth  'twill  be 
To  worm  their  secrets  out  of  these  two  fellows. 
They're  of  a  noble  house,  I  dare  to  swear. 
They  have  a  proud  and  discontented  air. 

Brander,     They're  mountebanks,  I'll  bet  a  dol- 
lar! 
Altinayer.      Perhaps. 

Frosch.     V\\  smoke  them,  mark  you  that! 
Mephiftopheles   [to  Fauft\.      These   people   never 
smell  the  old  rat. 
E'en  when  he  has  them  by  the  collar. 
Fauft.     Fair  greeting  to  you,  sirs! 
S'lebel.     The  same,  and  thanks  to  boot. 
\In  a  loiv  toncy  taking  a  side  look  at  Mephistopheles.] 
Why  has  the  churl  one  halting  foot  ? 


FAUST. 


IC5 


-^ 


Mephiftopheles.     With  your  permission,  (hall  we 
make  one  party  ? 
Inftead  of  a  good  drink,  which  get  here  no  one  can, 

Good  company  muft  make  us  hearty. 

Altmayer.     You  seem  a  very  faftidious  man. 

Froich.    I  think  you  spent  some  time  at  Rippach^a 
lately  ? 
You  supped  with  Miller  Hans  not  long  since,  I  dare 

say? 
Mephiftopheles.     We  passed  him  on  the  road  to- 
day! 
Fine  man!  it  grieved  us  parting  with  him,  greatly. 

He'd  much  to  say  to  us  about  his  cousins. 

And  sent  to  each,  through  us,  his  compliments  by 

dozens. 

\lle  hoixss  to  Frosch.] 

Altmayer  \joftlf\.     You've  got  it  there!  he  takes! 

SieheL     The  chap  don't  want  for  wit ! 

Frosch.     I'll  have  him  next  time,  wait  a  bit! 

Mephiftopheles.     If  I  mistook  not,  didn't  we  hear 

Some  well-trained  voices  chorus  singing  ? 

'Faith,  music  muft  sound  finely  here, 
From  all  these  echoing  arches  ringing! 

Frosch.     You  are  perhaps  a  connoisseur  ? 

Mephiftopheles.     O  no !  my  powers  are  small,  I'm 
but  an  amateur. 

Altmayer.     Give  us  a  song ! 

Mephiftopheles.     As  many's  you  desire. 


io6 


FAUST. 


Slebel.     But  let  it  be  a  bran-new  ftrain! 
Mephiftopheles.      No   fear  of  that  I       We've  juft 
come  back  from  Spain, 
The  lovely  land  of  wine  and  song  and  lyre. 

[Sings.'] 

There  was  a  king,  right  (lately, 
Who  had  a  great,  big  flea, — 
Frosch.     Hear  him!     A   flea!     D'ye  take  there, 
boys  ?     A  flea ! 
I  call  that  genteel  company. 

Mephiftopheles  \resu?nei] .     There  was  a  king,  right 
stately. 
Who  had  a  great,  big  flea, 
And  loved  him  very  greatly, 
As  if  his  own  son  were  he. 
He  called  the  knight  of  stitches  ; 
The  tailor  came  straightway  : 
Ho  !  measure  the  youngster  for  breeches, 
And  make  him  a  coat  to-day  ! 
Brander.     But  don't  forget  to  charge  the  knight 
of  stitches, 

The  measure  carefully  to  take. 

And,  as  he  loves  his  precious  neck. 

To  leave  no  wrinkles  in  the  breeches. 

Mephiftopheles.     In  silk  and  velvet  splendid 
The  creature  now  was  drest, 
To  his  coat  were  ribbons  appended, 
A  cross  was  on  his  breast. 


FAUST. 


107 


f 


He  had  a  great  star  on  his  collar, 
Was  a  minister,  in  fhort ; 
And  his  relatives,  greater  and  smaller. 
Became  great  people  at  court. 

The  lords  and  ladies  of  honor 

Fared  worse  than  if  they  were  hung, 

The  queen,  fhe  got  them  upon  her, 

And  all  were  bitten  and  stung. 

And  did  not  dare  to  attack  them, 

Nor  scratch,  but  let  them  stick. 

We  choke  them  and  we  crack  them 

The  moment  we  feel  one  prick. 
Chorus  [loucf^.     We  choke  'em  and  we  crack  'em 

The  moment  we  feel  one  prick. 
Frosch,     Bravo!  Bravo!     That  was  fine! 
Siebel.     So  fhall  each  flea  his  life  resign ! 
Brander.      Point  your  fingers  and  nip  them  fine ! 
Altmayer,     Hurra  for  Liberty!     Hurra  for  Wine! 
Mephiftopheles,     I'd    pledge    the  goddess,  too,  to 

fhow  how  high  I  set  her. 
Right  gladly,  if  your  wines  were  just  a  trifle  better. 
Siebel.      Don't  say  that  thing  again,  you  fretter! 
Mephiftopheles.     Did   I   not   fear    the    landlord  to 

affront ; 
I'd  fhow  these  worthy  guests  this  minute 
What  kind  of  stuff"  our  stock  has  in  it. 

Siebel.     Just  bring  it  on !     I'll  bear  the  brunt. 


io8 


FAUST. 


Frosch.       Give   us   a   brimming   glass,   our   praise 
{hall  then  be  ample, 
But  don't  dole  out  too  small  a  sample  5 
For  if  I'm  to  judge  and  criticize, 
I  need  a  good  mouthful  to  make  me  wise. 

Jltmayer  [softl)].      They're  from  the   Rhine,  as 

near  as  I  can  make  it. 
Mephistopheles,     Bring  us  a  gimlet  here  ! 
Brander,     What  fhall  be  done  with  that  I 
You've  not  the  cafics  before  the  door,  I  take  it  ? 
Jltmayer.    The  landlord's  tool-chest  there  is  easily 

got  at. 
Mephistopheles  [takes  the  gimlet]  (to  Frosch).    What 

will  you  have  ?     It  costs  but  speaking. 
Frosch.    How  do  you  mean  ?      Have  you  so  many 

kinds  ? 
Mephistopheles.     Enough  to  suit  all  sorts  of  minds. 
Jltmayer.     Aha !  old  sot,  your  lips  already  licking ! 
Frosch.     Well,  then !  if  I  must  choose,  let  Rhine- 
wine  fill  my  beaker, 
Our  fatherland  supplies  the  noblest  liquor. 

MEPHISTOPHELES 

[iorirtg  a  hole  in  the  rim   of  the   table  near  the  place  ivhere 

Frosch  sits']. 

Get  us  a  little  wax  right  off  to  make  the  stoppers ! 
Jltmayer.       Ah,   these    are   jugglers*    tricks,    an<^ 

whappers  ! 
Mephistopheles  [to  Brander],      And  you  ? 


FAUST. 


109 


I 


Brander.      Champaigne's  the  wine  for  me. 
But  then  right  sparkling  it  must  be! 
TMErHiSTOFHELES  Aor^j,'  meannvhile  one  of  them  has  made  the 
ivax-stopperSj  and  stopped  the  holes J\ 

Brander.    Hankerings  for  foreign  things  will  some- 
times haunt  you. 
The  good  so  far  one  often  finds  ; 
Your  real  German  man  can't   bear  the  French,  I 

grant  you, 
And  yet  will  gladly  drink  their  wines. 

Siebel  [while  Mephiftopheles  approaches  his  seat].     I 
don't  like  sour,  it  sets  my  mouth  awry. 
Let  mine  have  real  sweetness  in  it ! 

Mephiftopheles  [bores].  Well,  you  fhall  have  Tokay 

this  minute. 
Jltmayer.     No,  sirs,  just  look  me  in  the  eye  ! 
I  see  through  this,  *tis  what  the  chaps  call  smoking, 
Mephiftopheles.     Come  now !  •  That  would  be  se- 
rious joking. 
To  make  so  free  with  worthy  men. 
But  quickly  now!     Speak  out  again  ! 
With  what  description  can  I  serve  you  ? 
Jltmayer.     Wait  not  to  afk  ;  with  any,  then. 

[After  all  the  holes  are  bored  and  stopped^ 
Mephiftopheles  [with  singular  gestures].     From  the 
vine-stock  grapes  we  pluck  ; 
Horns  grow  on  the  buck  j 
Wine  is  juicy,  the  wooden  table. 


no 


FAUST. 


Like  wooden  vines,  to  give  virine  is  able. 
An  eye  for  nature's  depths  receive  ! 
Here  is  a  miracle,  only  believe! 
Now  draw  the  plugs  and  drink  your  fill ! 

All 

[draiving  the  stoppers^  and  catching  each  in  his  glass  the  nuine 

he  had  desired]. 

Sweet  spring,  that  yields  us  what  we  will ! 

Mepbiftopheles,     Only   be   careful   not   a   drop   to 
spill ! 

[TT}cy  drink  repeatedly."] 

Jll  [sing].     We're  happy  all  as  cannibals, 

Five  hundred  hogs  together. 
Mepbiftopheles.     Look  at  them  now,  they're  happy 

as  can  be  ! 
Fauft.     To  go  would  suit  my  inclination. 
Mepbiftopheles.     But  first  give  heed,  their  bestiality 
Will  make  a  glorious  demonstration. 

SlEBEL 
\drinks  carelessly  ;   the  tuine  is  spilt  upon  the  ground  and  turns 

to  fame]. 

Help !     Fire  !     Ho !     Help  !     The  flames  of  hell ! 
Mepbiftopheles  [conjuring  the  fame].  Peace,  friendly 
element,  be  still  ! 

[To  the  Toper.] 
This  time  'twas  but  a  drop  of  fire  from  purgatory. 
Siebel.     What  does  this  mean  ?     Wait  there,  or 
you'll  be  sorry ! 
It  seems  you  do  not  know  us  well. 


FAUST. 


Ill 


Frosch,     Not  twice,  in  this  way,  will  it  do  to  joke 


us  ! 


Altmayer,     I  vote,  we  give  him  leave  himself  here  • 

scarce  to  make. 
SiebeL     What,  sir!     How  dare  you  undertake 

To  carry  on  here  your  old  hocus-pocus  ? 
Mepbiftopheles.     Be  still,  old  v/ine-cafk! 
Siebel.  Broomstick,  you ! 

Insult  to  injury  add  ?     Confound  you! 

Brander,     Stop  there  !     Or  blows  fhall  rain  down 
round  you  ! 

Altmayer 

\draius  a  stopper  out  of  the  table  ;  fire  fie  s  at  him]. 
I  burn!      I  burn! 

Siebel.     Foul  sorcery !     Shame  I 
Lay  on  !   the  rascal  is  fair  game  I 

[They  draiv  their  kni'ves  and  rush  at  Mephistopheles.] 

Mepbiftopheles  [with  a  serious  mien].     Word  and 
fhape  of  air ! 
Change  place,  new  meaning  wear ! 
Be  here — and  there ! 
[They  stand  astounded  and  look  at  each  other ^ 
Altmayer.    Where  am  I  ?   What  a  charming  land  ! 
Froscb.     Vine  hills !     My  eyes !     Is't  true  ? 
Siebel.     And  grapes,  too,  close  at  hand ! 
Brander.      Beneath   this  green  see  what  a  stem  is 
growing ! 
See  what  a  bunch  of  grapes  is  glowing! 


112 


FAUST. 


[He  seizes  Siebel  by  the  nose.     The  rest  do  the  same  to  each 
other  and  raise  their  kni-ves.] 

Mephlftopheles  [as  above].    Loose,  Error,  from  their 
eyes  the  band  1 
How  Satan  plays  his  tricks,  you  need  not  now  be  told 

of. 

\E:  'vanishes  'with  Faust,  the  companions  start  bach  from  each 

otherJ] 

Siebel.     What  ails  me  ? 

Jit  may  er.      How  ? 

Frosch,     Was  that  thy  nose,  friend,  I  had  hold  of? 

Brartder  [to  Siebel].     And  I  have  thine,  too,  in  my 
hand! 

Altmayer.     O  what  a  fhock!  through  all  my  limbs 
'tis  crawling  I 
Get  me  a  chair,  be  quick,  I'm  falling! 

Frosch.     No,  say  what  was  the  real  case  ? 

Siebel.     O  ihow  me  where  the  churl  is  hiding! 
Alive  he  fhall  not  leave  the  place ! 

Altmayer.     Out  through  the  cellar-door  I  saw  him 
riding — 
Upon  a  caflc — he  went  full  chase. — 
Heavy  as  lead  my  feet  are  growing. 

[Turning  towards  the  table.] 
My!  IF  the  wine  fhould  yet  be  flowing. 

Siebel.     'Twas  all  deception  and  moonfhine. 

Frosch.     Yet  I  was  sure  I  did  drink  wine. 

Brander.     But  how  about  the  bunches,  brother  ? 

Altmayer.  After  such  miracles,  Til  doubt  no  other! 


FAUST. 


113 


witches'   kitchen. 

\0n  a  h-u)' hearth  stands  a  great  kettle  o'ver  the  fire.  In  the 
smoke,  ivhicb  rises  from  it,  are  seen  njarious  forms.  A 
female  monkey^  sits  by  the  kettle  and  skims  it, and  takes  care 
that  it  does  not  run  over.  The  male  monkey  'with  the  young 
ones  sits  close  by,  ivarming  himself.  If^alls  and  ceiling  are 
adorned  ivith  the  most  singular  ivitch-household  stuff.] 

Faust.     Mephistopheles. 
Fauft.     Would  that  this  vile  witch-business  were 
well  over  ! 
Doft  promise  me  I  fhall  recover 
In  this  hodge-podge  of  craziness  ? 
From  an  old  hag  do  I  advice  require  ? 
And  will  this  filthy  cooked-up  mess 

My  youth  by  thirty  years  bring  nigher  ? 
Woe's  me,  if  that's  the  beft  you  know  ! 
Already  hope  is  from  my  bosom  banifhed. 
Has  not  a  noble  mind  found  long  ago 
Some  balsam  to  reftore  a  youth  that's  vanifhed  ? 
Mephijiopheles.     My  friend,  again  thou  speakeft  a 
wise  thought ! 
I  know  a  natural  way  to  make  thee  young, — none 

apter ! 
But  in  another  book  it  muft  be  sought, 
And  is  a  quite  peculiar  chapter. 
Fauft.     I  beg  to  know  it. 

8 


JV5^ 


114 


FAUST. 


FAUST. 


"5 


Mephifiopheles,     Well !  here's  one  that  needs  no 

No  help  of  physic,  nor  enchanting. 

Out  to  the  fields  without  delay, 

And  take  to  hacking,  digging,  planting ; 

Run  the  same  round  from  day  to  day, 

A  treadmill-life,  contented,  leading. 

With  simple  fare  both  mind  and  body  feeding. 

Live  with  the  beaft  as  beaft,  nor  count  it  robbery 

Shouldft  thou  manure,  thyself,  the  field  thou  rcapeft  ; 

Follow  this  course  and,  truft  to  me, 

For  eighty  years  thy  youth  thou  kecpeft ! 

Fauft.      I  am  not  used  to  that,  I  ne'er  could  bring 
me  to  it. 
To  wield  the  spade,  I  could  not  do  it. 
The  narrow  life  befits  me  not  at  all. 

MephiJIopheles.     So  muft  we  on  the  witch,  then, 

call. 

Fauft.     But  why  juft  that  old  hag  ?     Canft  thou 
Not  brew  thyself  the  needful  liquor  ? 

Mephljlopheles.    That  were  a  pretty  paftime  now 
Td  build  about  a  thousand  bridges  quicker. 
Science  and  art  alone  won't  do, 
The  work  will  call  for  patience,  too ; 
Cofts  a  ftill  spirit  years  of  occupation  : 
Time,  only,  ftrengthens  the  fine  fermentation. 
To  tell  each  thing  that  forms  a  part 
Would  sound  to  thee  hke  wildeft  fable  ! 


m 


i 


The  devil  indeed  has  taught  the  art ; 
I'o  make  it  not  the  devil  is  able. 

\^E spying  the  animals.'] 
See,  what  a  genteel  breed  we  here  parade ! 
This  is  the  house-boy !  that's  the  maid ! 

[To  the  animals.'] 
Where's  the  old  lady  gone  a  mousing  ? 
The  animals.     Carousing ; 
Out  fhe  went 
By  the  chimney-vent! 
Mephiftopheles.     How  long  does  fhe  spend  in  gad- 
ding and  ftorming  ? 
The  animals.      While  we  are  giving  our  paws  a 


warming. 


Mephiftopheles  [to  Fauft].      How  do  you  find  the 

dainty  creatures  ? 
Fauft.     Dlsguftlng  as  I  ever  chanced  to  see! 
Mephiftopheles.      No !  a  discourse  like  this  to  me, 
I  own,  is  one  of  life's  moft  pleasant  features ; 

[To  the  animals.] 
Sayj  cursed  dolls,  that  sweat,  there,  toiling! 
What  are  you  twirling  with  the  spoon  ? 

Animals.     A  common  beggar-soup  we're  boiling. 
Mephiftopheles,     You'll  have  a  run  of  cuftom  sooa 
The  he-monkey 
[Comes  along  and  fauons  on  Mephistopheles]. 

O  fling  up  the  dice, 
Make  me  rich  in  a  trice, 


n6 


FAUST. 


FAUST. 


117 


Turn  fortune's  wheel  over  ! 
My  lot  is  right  bad, 
If  money  I  had, 
My  wits  would  recover.  - 
Mephiftopheles.      The  monkey  M  be  as  merry  as 
a  cricket, 
Would  somebody  give  him  a  lottery-ticket! 

[Meanwhile  the  young  monkeys  have  been  playing  'wiib  a  great 
ball^  'which  they  roll  backivard  and  for^^ard.'] 

The  monkey.     The  world's  the  ball  5 

See't  rise  and  fall, 

Its  roll  you  follow  ; 

Like  glass  it  rings  : 

Both,  brittle  things! 

Within  'tis  hollow. 

There  it  fliines  clear. 

And  brighter  here, — 

I  live— by  Tollo  I— 

Dear  son,  I  pray. 

Keep  hands  away ! 

Thou  fhalt  fall  so! 

'Tis  made  of  clay, 

Pots  are,  also. 
Mephiftopheles,     What  means  the  sieve  ? 
The  monkey  [takes  it  down].      Wert  thou  a  thief, 

'Twould  fhow  the  thief  and  fhame  him. 

[Runs  to  his  mate  and  makes  her  look  through.'] 

Look  through  the  sieve  ! 


% 


DIscern'ft  thou  the  thief. 

And  darefl:  not  name  him  ? 
Mephijiopheles  [approaching  the  fire].     And  what's 

this  pot  ? 
The  monkeys.     The  dunce »     I'll  be  (hot ! 

He  knows  not  the  pot, 

He  knows  not  the  kettle ! 
Mephiftopheles.     Impertinence!     Hufti! 
The  monkey.      Here,  take  you  the  brufh,    - 

And  sit  on  the  settle ! 
[He  forces  Mephistopheles  to  sit  douon.'] 

Faust 

^jujho  all  this  time  has  been  standing  before  a  looking-glass,  no'W 
approaching  and  nozu  receding  from  it]. 

What  do  I  see  ?     What  heavenly  face 

Doth,  in  this  magic  glass,  enchant  me  ! 

O  love,  in  mercy,  now,  thy  swiftefl  pinions  grant  me! 

And  bear  me  to  her  field  of  space! 

Ah,  if  I  seek  to  approach  what  doth  so  haunt  me. 

If  from  this  spot  I  dare  to  ftir, 

Dimly  as  through  a  mift  I  gaze  on  her! — 

The  lovelieft  vision  of  a  woman  ! 

Such  lovely  woman  can  there  be  ? 

Mud  I  in  these  reposing  limbs  naught  human. 

But  of  all  heavens  the  fineft  essence  see  ? 

Was  such  a  thino-  on  earth  seen  ever  ? 

Mephiftopheles.     Why,  when  you   see  a  God  six 
days  in  hard  work  spend, 


ii8 


FAUST. 


FAUST. 


IIQ 


And  then  cry  bravo  at  the  end, 

Of  course  you  look  for  something  clever. 

Look  now  thy  fill ;  I  have  for  thee 

Juft  such  a  jewel,  and  will  lead  thee  to  her  j 

And  happy,  whose  good  fortune  it  fhall  be, 

To  bear  her  home,  a  prospered  wooer! 

[Faust  keeps  on  looking  into  the  mirror.     Mephistopheles 
stretching  himself  out  on  the  settle  and  playing 'with  the  brush, 
continues  speaking."] 
Here  sit  I  like  a  king  upon  his  throne, 
The  sceptre  in  my  hand, — I  want  the  crown  alone. 

The  Animals 

[who  up  to  this  time  have  been  going  through  all  sorts  of  queer 
antics  -with  each  other ^  bring  Mephistopheles  a  cro-ivn  ivitb 
a  loud  cry]. 

O  do  be  so  good, — 
With  sweat  and  with  blood. 
To  take  It  and  lime  it ; 
VTbey  go  about  clumsily  'with  the  croi.vn  and  break  it  into  tivo 
pieces,  ivitb  njohich  they  jump  round.] 

'Tis  done  now  !     We're  free  ! 
We  speak  and  we  see, 
We  hear  and  we  rhyme  it ; 
Fauft  [facing  the  mirror].     Woe's  me  !     I've  al- 

mofl:  loft  my  wits. 
Mephlftopheles  [pointing  to  the  animals].     My  head, 

too,  I  confess,  Is  very  near  to  spinning. 
Thi  animals.     And  then  if  it  hits 


And  every  thing  fits. 
We've  thoughts  for  our  winning. 
Fauji  [as  before].     Up  to  my  heart  the  flame  is 
flying  ! 
Let  us  begone — there's  danger  near  ! 

Mephlftopheles  [In  the  former  posltloft'].   Well,  this, 
at  leaft,  there's  no  denying. 
That  we  have  undissembled  poets  here. 

irhe  kettle,  ivhich  the  she-monkey  has  hitherto  left  univatched, 
begins  to  run  over  ;  a  great  flame  breaks  out,  ivhich  roars  up 
the  chimney.  7^^  Witch  comes  riding  down  through  the 
fame  -with  a  terrible  outciy.] 

JVltch.     Ow!  Ow!  Ow!  Ow ! 

The  damned  beaft  !     The  cursed  sow  ! 
Negleded  the  kettle,  scorched  the  Frau ! 
The  cursed  crew  ! 
{Seeing  Faust  and  Mephistopheles.] 

And  who  are  you  ? 

And  what  d'ye  do  ? 
And  what  d'ye  want  ? 
And  who  sneaked  in  ? 
The  fire-plague  grim 
Shall  light  on  him 
In  every  limb ! 

\^%he  makes  a  dive  at  the  kettle  nvith  the  skimmer  and  spatters 
flames  at  Faust,  Mephistopheles,  and  the  creatures.    These 

last  ivhimper.^ 


120 


FAUST. 


Mephistopheles 

^inverting  the  brush  ivhicb  he  holds  in  bis  handy  and  striking 

among  the  glasses  and  pot s^. 

In  two  !     In  two  ! 
There  lies  the  brew  ! 
There  lies  the  glass  ! 
This  joke  muft  pass  ; 
For  time-beat,  ass ! 
To  thy  melody,  'twill  do. 

\JVhile  the  Witch  starts  back  full  ofivrath  and  horror."] 

Skeleton !  Scarcecrow  !  SpeClre  !    Know*ft  thou  me, 
Thy  lord  and  mafter  ?     What  prevents  my  dafhing 
Right  in  among  thy  cursed  company. 
Thyself  and  all  thy  monkey  spirits  smafhing  ? 
Has  the  red  waiftcoat  thy  respect  no  more  ? 
Has  the  cock's-feather,  too,  escaped  attention  ? 
Haft  never  seen  this  face  before  ? 
My  name,  perchance,  wouldft  have  me  mention  ? 

The  ivltch.      Pardon  the  rudeness,  sir,  in  me  ! 
But  sure  no  cloven  foot  1  see. 
Nor  find  I  your  two  ravens  either. 

Mephiftopheles.      I'll  let  thee  off  for  this  once  so  ; 
For  a  long  while  has  passed,  full  well  I  know. 
Since  the  laft  time  we  met  together. 
The  culture,  too,  which  licks  the  world  to  fhape. 
The  devil  himself  cannot  escape  ; 
The  phantom  of  the  North  men's  thoughts  have  left 

behind  them, 


FAUST. 


121 


Horns,  tail,  and  claws,  where  now  d'ye  find  them  ? 

And  for  the  foot,  with  which  dispense  I  nowise  can, 

'Twould  with  good  circles  hurt  my  ftanding ; 

And  so  I've  worn,  some  years,  Hke  many   a  fine 

young  man. 
False  calves  to  make  me  more  commanding. 

The  zvitch  [dancing'] .     O   I   {hall  lose  my  wits,  I 
fear. 
Do  I,  again,  see  Squire  Satan  here  ! 

Mephiftopheles,  Woman,  the  name  offends  my  ear ! 
The   witch.       Why    so?      What    has    it    done    to 

you  ? 
Mephiftopheles.     It  has  long  since  to  fable-books 

been  banifhed  ; 
But  men  are  none  the  better  for  It ;  true. 
The  wicked  oncy  but  not  the  wicked  ones^  has  van- 

ifhed. 
Herr  Baron  callft  thou  me,  then  all  Is  right  and  good  j 
I  am  a  cavalier,  like  others.     Doubt  me  ? 
Doubt  for  a  moment  of  my  noble  blood  ? 
See  here  the  family  arms  I  bear  about  me! 
[//^  makes  an  indecent  gesture.] 

The  witch    [laughs  immoderately'].       Ha!  ha!   full 
well  I  know  you,  sir! 
You  are  the  same  old  rogue  you  always  were ! 

Mephiftopheles  [to  Faujt].       I    pray  you,  carefully 
attend. 
This  Is  the  way  to  deal  with  witches,  friend. 


122 


FAUST. 


FAUST. 


123 


The  witch.      Now,  gentles,  what  fhall  I  produce  ? 

Meph'iftopheles.     A  right  good  glassful  of  the  well- 
known  juice! 
And  pray  you,  let  It  be  the  oldeft  ; 
h^Q  makes  it  doubly  ftrong  for  use.' 

The  witch.      Right  gladly!     Here  I  have  a  bottle, 
From  which,  at  times,  I  wet  my  throttle  ; 
Which  now,  not  in  the  flighted,  ftinks  j 
A  glass  to  you  I  don't  mind  giving  j 

But  if  this  man,  without  preparing,  drinks. 
He  has  not,  well  you  know,  another  hour  for  living. 
Mephiftopheles.    'Tis  a  good  friend  of  mine,  whom 
it  fhall  ftraight  cheer  up  ; 
Thy  kitchen's  beft  to  give  him  don't  delay  thee. 
Thy  ring — thy  spell,  now,  quick,  I  pray  thee. 
And  give  him  then  a  good  full  cup. 

[The  Witch,  ivtth  strange  gestures,  draivs  a  circle,  and  places 
shgular  things  in  it;  tneanivhile  the  glasses  begin  to  ring, 
the  kettle  to  sound  and  make  music.  Finally,  she  brings  a 
great  book  and  places  the  monkeys  in  the  circle,  ivhom  she  uses 
as  a  reading-desk  and  to  hold  the  torches.  She  beckons  Faust 
to  come  to  ber.^ 

Fauji  [to  MephiJIopheles].      Hold  !  what  v/ill  come 
of  this  ?      These  creatures, 
These  frantic  geftures  and  distorted  features, 
Vnd  all  the  crazy,  juggling  fluff, 
i.'ve  known  and  loathed  it  long  enough ! 


> 


) 


Mephijiopheles.    Pugh !  that  is  only  done  to  smoke 

us; 
Don't  be  so  serious,  my  man  ! 
She  mufl,  as  Doctor,  play  her  hocus-pocus 
To  make  the  dose  work  better,  that's  the  plan. 

[H>  constrains  Faust  to  step  into  the  circle. 1 

The  Witch 

[beginning  ivitb  great  emphasis  10  declaim  out  of  the  book'^ 
Remember  then !  ^ 

Of  One  make  Ten, 

The  Two  let  be, 
Make  even  Three, 
There's  wealth  for  thee. 
The  Four  pass  o'er  I 
Of  Five  and  Six, 
(The  witch  so  speaks,) 
Make  Seven  and  Eight, 
The  thino;  is  flraio;ht : 
And  Nine  is  One 

And  Ten  Is  none — 
This  is  the  witch's  one-time-one !  ^* 
Fauft.     The  old  hag  talks  like  one  delirious. 
Mephijiopheles.     There's  much  more  flill,  no  less 
mvflerious, 
I  know  it  well,  the  whole  book  sounds  jufl  so! 
I've  lofl  full  many  a  year  in  poring  o'er  it, 
For  perfect  contradiction,  you  mufl  know. 


124 


FAUST. 


FAUST. 


125 


A  myflery  (land?,  and  fools  and  wise  men  bow  be- 
fore it, 
The  art  is  old  and  new,  my  son. 
Men,  in  all  times,  by  craft  and  terror, 
With  One  and  Three,  and  Three  and  One, 
For  truth  have  propagated  error. 
They've  gone  on  gabbling  so  a  thousand  years  5 
Who  on  the  fools  would  wafte  a  minute  ? 
Man  generally  thinks,  if  words  he  only  hears, 
Articulated  noise  muft  have  some  meanino;  in  it. 
The  witch  \_goes  c«].      Deep  wisdom's  power 

Has,  to  this  hour. 

From  all  the  world  been  hidden  I 

Whoso  thinks  not, 

To  him  'tis  brought. 

To  him  it  comes  unbidden. 
Faujl.      What  nonsense  is  fhe  talking  here  ? 
My  heart  is  on  the  point  of  cracking. 
In  one  great  choir  I  seem  to  hear 
A  hundred  thousand  ninnies  clacking. 

Meph'iflopheles.     Enough,  enough,  rare  Sibyl,  smg 
us 
These  runes  no  more,  thy  beverage  bring  us, 
And  quickly  fill  the  goblet  to  the  brim  ;    • 
This  drink  may  by  my  friend  be  safely  taken  ; 
Full  many  grades  the  man  can  reckon. 
Many  good  swigs  have  entered  him. 


\ 


I 


\7he  Witch,  'whh  many  ceremonies,  fours  tie  drink  inta 
a  cup ;  as  she  puts  it  to  Faust's  lips,  there  rises  a  light 
flame  ^ 

Mephiftopheles.     Down  with  it!      Gulp  it  down! 
'Twill  prove 
All  that  thy  heart's  wild  wants  desire. 
Thou,  with  the  devil,  hand  and  glove,25 
And  yet  wilt  be  afraid  of  fire  ? 

[The  Witch  breaks  the  circle ;  Faust  steps  out.^ 

Mephiftopheles.     Now  brilkly  forth  I    No  reft  for 

thee  1 
The  witch.     Much  comfort  may  the  drink  afFord 

you! 
Mephiftopheles  [to  the  witch"].     And  any  favor  you 

may  afk  of  me, 

I'll  gladly  on  Walpurgis'  night  accord  you. 

The  witch.     Here  is  a  song,  which  if  you  some- 
times sing, 

•Twill  ftir  up  in  your  heart  a  special  fire. 

Mephiftopheles  {to  Fauft].      Only  make  hafte  ;  and 
even  fhouldft  thou  tire. 
Still  follow  me  j  one  muft  perspire, 
That  it  may  set  his  nerves  all  quivering. 
I'll  teach  thee  by  and  bye  to  prize  a  noble  leisure. 
And  soon,  too,  fhalt  thou  feel  with  hearty  pleasure, 
How  busy  Cupid  ftirs,  and  fhakes  his  nimble  wing. 


126 


FAUST. 


FAUST. 


127 


Fauft.     But  firft  one  look  in  yonder  glass,  I  pray 
thee  ! 
Such  beauty  I  no  more  may  find ! 

Mephiftopheles.      Nay !  in  the  flefli  thine  eyes  fhall 
soon  display  thee 
The  model  of  all  woman-kind. 

lSoftIy.1 
Soon  will,  when  once  this  drink  fhall  heat  thee. 
In  every  girl  a  Helen  meet  thee ! 


A   STREET. 

Faust.     Margaret  [^passing  o'ver], 

Fauft.     My  fair  young  lady,  will  it  offend  her 
If  I  offer  my  arm  and  escort  to  lend  her  ? 

Margaret.     Am  neither  lady,  nor  yet  am  fair! 

Can  find  my  way  home  without  any  one's  care. 
\_Disengages  herself  and  exit.'] 

Fauji.      By  heavens,  but  then  the  child  is  fair  I 

IVe  never  seen  the  like,  I  swear. 

So  modeft  is  (he  and  so  pure, 

And  somewhat  saucy,  too,  to  be  sure. 

The  light  of  the  cheek,  the  lip's  red  bloom, 

I  fhall  never  forget  to  the  day  of  doom  ! 

How  fhe  cafl  down  her  lovely  eyes, 

Deep  in  my  soul  imprinted  lies  ; 

How  fhe  spoke  up,  so  curt  and  tart. 

Ah,  that  went  right  to  my  ravifhed  heart! 

\Enter  Mephistopheles.] 

Fauft,     Hark,  thou  (halt  find  me  a  way  to  address 
her! 

Mephiftopheles.     Which  one  ? 

Fauft.     She  jufl  went  by. 

Mephiftopheles.  What !     She  ? 

She  came  juft  now  from  her  father  confessor, 
Who  from  all  sins  pronounced  her  free ; 
I  flole  behind  her  noiselessly, 


128 


FAUST. 


*Tis  an  innocent  thing,  who,  for  nothing  at  all, 
Muft  go  to  the  confessional ; 
O'er  such  as  fhe  no  power  I  hold! 

Fauft.      But  then  fhe's  over  fourteen  years  old. 

Mephiftopheles,     Thou  speak'ft  exadly  like  Jack 
Rake, 
Who  every  fair  flower  his  own  would  make. 
And  thinks  there  can  be  no  favor  nor  fame, 
But  one  may  ftraightway  pluck  the  same. 
But  'twill  not  always  do,  we  see. 

Fauji.     My  worthy  Mafter  Gravity, 
Let  not  a  word  of  the  Law  be  spoken  ! 
One  thing  be  clearly  underflood, — 
Unless  I  clasp  the  sweet,  young  blood 
This  night  in  my  arms — then,  well  and  good : 
When  midnight  ftrikes,  our  bond  is  broken. 

Mephiftopheles,     Refle6l   on   all   that   lies  in  the 
way ! 
I  need  a  fortnight,  at  leaft,  to  a  day. 
For  finding  so  much  as  a  way  to  reach  her. 

Faufl.     Had  I  seven  hours,  to  call  my  own, 
Without  the  deviFs  aid,  alone 
I'd  snare  with  ease  so  young  a  creature. 

Mephiftopheles,      You   talk  quite   Frenchman-like 
to-day  ; 

But  don't  be  vexed  beyond  all  measure. 
What  boots  it  thus  to  snatch  at  pleasure  ? 
'Tis  not  so  great,  by  a  long  way. 


FAUST. 


129 


As  if  you  firft,  with  tender  twaddle, 
And  every  sort  of  fiddle-faddle, 
Your  little  doll  fhould  mould  and  knead, 
As  one  in  French  romances  may  read. 

FauJ},     My  appetite  needs  no  such  spur. 

Mephiftopheles.    Now,  then,  without  a  jeft  or  flur^ 
I  tell  you,  once  for  all,  such  speed 
With  the  fair  creature  won't  succeed. 
Nothing  will  here  by  ftorm  be  taken  j 
We  muft  perforce  on  intrigue  reckon. 

FauJl,     Get  me  some  trinket  the  angel  has  bleft  ! 
Lead  me  to  her  chamber  of  reft  ! 
Get  me  a  'kerchief  from  her  neck, 
A  garter  get  me  for  love's  sweet  sake ! 

Mephiftopheles.     To  prove  to  you  my  willingness 
To  aid  and  serve  you  in  this  diftress  ; 
You  ftiall  visit  her  chamber,  by  me  attended, 
Before  the  passing  day  is  ended. 

Fauft.     And  see  her,  too  ?  and  have  her  ? 

Mephiftopheles.  Nay ! 

She  will  to  a  neighbor's  have  gone  away. 
Meanwhile  alone  by  yourself  you  may. 
There  in  her  atmosphere,  feaft  at  leisure 
And  revel  in  dreams  of  future  pleasure. 

Fauft.      Shall  we  ftart  at  once  ? 

Mephiftopheles.     'Tis  too  early  yet. 

Fauft.     Some  present  to  take  her  for  me  you  muft 

get. 

9  \Exiu 


130 


FAUST. 


Mephiftopheles,     Presents  already !     Brave !     Hc*s 
on  the  right  foundation ! 
Full  many  a  noble  place  I  know, 
y\nd  treasure  buried  long  ago  j 

Aluft  make  a  bit  of  exploration. 

lExit, 


FAUST. 


131 


EVENING. 

A  little  cleanly  Chamber, 

Margaret 

\bra'iding  and  tying  up  her  ba'ir]. 

Pd  give  a  penny  juft  to  say 

What  gentleman  that  was  to-day ! 

How  very  gallant  he  seemed  to  be. 

He's  of  a  noble  family; 

That  I  could  read  from  his  brow  and  bearing — 

And  he  would  not  have  otherwise  been  so  daring. 

lExit, 

Faust.    Mephistopheles. 
Mephiftopheles.      Come  in,  ftep  softly,  do  not  fear ! 
Fauft  [after  a  pause'].     Leave  me  alone,  I  prithee, 

here  ! 
Mephiftopheles  [peering  round].     Not  every  maiden 

keeps  so  neat. 

lExit. 

Fauft  [gazing  round].      Welcome   this   hallowed 
ftill  retreat ! 
Where  twilight  weaves  Its  magic  glow. 
Seize  on  my  heart,  love-longing,  sad  and  sweet, 
That  on  the  dew  of  hope  doft  feed  thy  woe  I 
How  breathes  around  the  sense  of  ftillness, 
Of  quiet,  order,  and  content ! 
In  all  this  poverty  what  fulness ! 
What  blessedness  within  this  prison  pent! 

[He  thronxjs  himself  into  a  leathern  chair  by  the  bed."} 


132 


FAUST. 


FAUST. 


133 


Take  me,  too !  as  thou  haft,  in  years  long  flown. 

In  joy  and  grief,  so  many  a  generation  I 

Ah  me!  how  oft,  on  this  anceftral  throne. 

Have  troops  of  children  climbed  with  exultation! 

Perhaps,  when  Chriftmas  brought  the  Holy  Gueft, 

My  love  has  here,  in  grateful  veneration 

The  grandsire's  withered  hand  with  child-lips  preft. 

I  feel,  O  maiden,  circling  me, 

Thy  spirit  of  grace  and  fulness  hover. 

Which  dailv  like  a  mother  teaches  thee 

The  table-cloth  to  spread  in  snowy  purity. 

And  even,  with  crinkled  sand  the  floor  to  cover. 

Dear,  godlike  hand  !  a  touch  of  thine 

Makes  this  low  house  a  heavenly  kingdom  ftilne! 

And  here  I 

[//(?  lifts  a  bed-curtain.'] 

What  blissful  awe  my  heart  thrills  through! 
Here  for  long  hours  could  I  linger. 

Here,  Nature !   in  light  dreams,  thy  airy  finger 

The  inborn  angel's  features  drew  ! 

Here  lay  the  child,  when  life's  frefti  heavings 

Its  tender  bosom  firft  made  warm. 

And  here  with  pure,  myfterious  weavings 

The  spirit  wrought  its  godlike  form!  . 

And  thou  !  What  brought  thee  here  ?   what  powei 
Stirs  in  my  deepeft  soul  this  hour  ? 
What  wouldft  thou  here  ?     What  makes  thy  heart 

so  sore  ? 
Unhappy  Fauft!  I  know  thee  thus  no  more. 


Breathe  I  a  magic  atmosphere  ? 
The  will  to  enjoy  how  ftrong  I  felt  it, — 
And  in  a  dream  of  love  am  now  all  melted  ! 
Are  we  the  sport  of  every  puff  of  air  ? 

And  if  fhe  suddenly  fhould  enter  now, 

How  would  fhe  thy  presumptuous  folly  humble! 
Big  John-o'dreams !  ah,  how  wouldft  thou 
Sink  at  her  feet,  collapse  and  crumble ! 

Mephiftopheles,      Quick,  now !     She  comes !     I'm 
looking  at  her. 

Fauft.     Away!     Away!     O  cruel  fate! 

Adephlftopheles.    Here  is  a  box  of  moderate  weight  ; 
I  got  it  somewhere  else — no  matter! 
Juft  ftiut  it  up,  here,  in  the  press, 

I  swear  to  you,  'twill  turn  her  senses  ; 
I  meant  the  trifles,  I  confess, 
To  scale  another  fair  one's  fences. 
True,  child  is  child  and  play  is  play. 

Fauft.     Shall  I  ?     I  know  not. 

Mephiftopheles.  Why  delay  ? 

You  mean  perhaps  to  keep  the  bauble  ? 
If  so,  I  counsel  you  to  spare 
From  idle  passion  hours  so  fair, 

And  me,  henceforth,  all  further  trouble. 

[  hope  you  are  not  avaricious ! 

[  rub  my  hands,  I  scratch  my  head — 

\lle  places  the  casket  in  the  press  and  locks  it  up  again."] 


134- 


FAUST. 


FAUST. 


135 


(Quick I     Time  we  sped !) — 

That  the  dear  creature  may  be  led 

And  moulded  by  your  will  and  wifhes  ; 

And  you  ftand  here  as  glum, 

As  one  at  the  door  of  the  auditorium. 

As  if  before  your  eyes  you  saw 

In  bodily  fhape,  with  breathless  awe, 

Metaphysics  and  physics,  grim  and  gray ! 

Away! 


lExit, 


Margaret  [with  a  lamp].     It  seems  so  close,  so 
sultry  here. 

\_She  opens  the  ivinJoiv.'] 
Yet  it  isn't  so  very  warm  out  there, 
I  feel — I  know  not  how — oh  dear! 
I  wifh  my  mother  *ld  come  home,  I  declare ! 
I  feel  a  fhudder  all  over  me  crawl — 
Vm  a  silly,  timid  thing,  that's  all  I 

[_She  begins  to  s'lng^  ivhile  undressing."] 
There  was  a  king  in  Thule, 
To  whom,  when  near  her  grave. 
The  miftrcss  he  loved  so  truly 
A  golden  goblet  gave. 

He  cheriflied  it  as  a  lover. 
He  drained  it,  every  bout ; 
His  eyes  with  tears  ran  over. 
As  oft  as  he  drank  thereout. 


And  when  he  found  himself  dying. 
His  towns  and  cities  he  told ; 
Naught  else  to  his  heir  denying 
Save  only  the  goblet  of  gold. 

His  knights  he  ftraightway  gathers 
And  in  the  midft  sate  he. 
In  the  banquet  hall  of  the  fathers 
In  the  caftle  over  the  sea. 

There  ftood  th*  old  knight  of  liquor, 
And  drank  the  laft  life-glow, 
Then  flung  the  holy  beaker 
Into  the  flood  below. 

He  saw  it  plunging,  drinking 
And  sinking  in  the  roar. 
His  eyes  in  death  were  sinking, 
He  never  drank  one  drop  more. 

IS  be  opens  the  press,  to  put  a-voay  her  clothes,  and  discovers  the 

casket."] 

How  in  the  world  came  this  fine  cafket  here  ? 

I  locked  the  press,  Tm  very  clear. 

I  wonder  what's  inside !    Dear  me  I  it's  very  queer! 

Perhaps  'twas  brought  here  as  a  pawn. 
In  place  of  something  mother  lent. 
Here  is  a  little  key  hung  on, 
A  single  peep  I  fhan't  repent! 


1 


1^5  FAUST. 

What's  here  ?     Good  gracious !  only  see  ! 
I  never  saw  the  like  in  my  born  days  I 
On  some  chief  feftival  such  finery 
Might  on  some  noble  lady  blaze. 
How  would  this  chain  become  my  neck ! 
Whose  may  this  splendor  be,  so  lonely  ? 

[She  arrays  herself  in  it,  and  steps  before  the  glass."] 

Could  I  but  claim  the  ear-rings  only ! 

A  different  figure  one  would  make. 

What's  beauty  worth  to  thee,  young  blood ! 

May  all  be  very  well  and  good  ; 

What  then  ?     'Tis  half  for  pity's  sake 

They  praise  your  pretty  features. 

Each  burns  for  gold, 

All  turns  on  gold, — 

Alas  for  us  !  poor  creatures  I 


ri 


H 


FAUST. 


PROMENADE. 


137 


Faust  {going  up  and  doivn  in  thought.]     Mephistopheles  to 

bim. 

Miphiftopheles.     By  all  that  ever  was  jilted !     By 
all  the  infernal  fires ! 
I  wi(h  I  knew  something  worse,  to  curse  as  my  heart 
desires ! 
Fauft.     What  griping  pain  has  hold  of  thee  ? 
Such  grins  ne'er  saw  I  in  the  worft  ftage-ranter ! 
Mephiftopheles.     Oh,  to  the  devil  I'd  give  myself 
inflanter. 
If  I  were  not  already  he  ! 

Fauft.      Some  pin's  loose  in  your  head,  old  fellow  ! 
That  fits  you,  like  a  madman  thus  to  bellow ! 

Mephiftopheles.     Juft  think,  the  pretty  toy  we  got 
for  Peg, 
A  priefl  has  hooked,  the  cursed  plague  j — 
The  thing  came  under  the  eye  of  the  mother. 
And  caused  her  a  dreadful  internal  pother  : 
The  woman's  scent  is  fine  and  ftrong  ; 
Snufiles  over  her  prayer-book  all  day  long. 
And  knows,  by  the  smell  of  an  article,  plain, 
Whether  the  thing  is  holy  or  profiine  j 
And  as  to  the  box  (he  was  soon  aware 
There  could  not  be  much  blessing  there. 
"  My  child,"  fhe  cried,  "  unrighteous  gains 
Ensnare  the  soul,  dry  up  the  veins. 


138 


FAUST. 


We'll  consecrate  it  to  God's  mother, 

She'll  give  us  some  heavenly  manna  or  other! " 

Little  Margaret  made  a  wry  face  ;  "  I  see 

'Tis,  after  all,  a  gift  horse,"  said  fhe  j 

"And  sure,  no  godless  one  is  he 

Who  brought  it  here  so  handsomely." 

The  mother  sent  for  a  prieft  (they're  cunning)  j 

Who  scarce  had  found  what  game  was  running. 

When  he  rolled  his  greedy  eyes  like  a  lizard, 

And,  "  all  is  rightly  disposed,"  said  he, 

"  Who  conquers  wins,  for  a  certainty. 

The  church  has  of  old  a  famous  gizzard. 

She  calls  it  little  whole  lands  to  devour, 

Yet  never  a  surfeit  got  to  this  hour  ; 

The  church  alone,  dear  ladies,  sans  queflion, 

Can  give  unrighteous  gains  digeftion." 

Fauft.     That  is  a  general  practice,  too. 
Common  alike  with  king  and  Jew. 

JHephiftopheles.  Then  pocketed  bracelets  and  chains 
and  rings 
As  if  they  were  mufhrooms  or  some  such  things, 

With  no  more  thanks,  (the  greedy-guts  !) 
Than  if  it  had  been  a  bafket  of  nuts. 
Promised  them  all  sorts  of  heavenly  pay—" 
And  greatly  ediiicd  were  they. 

Fauft.     And  Margery  ? 

Mephiftopheles.     Sits  there  in  diftress. 
And  what  to  do  fhe  cannot  guess, 


FAUST. 


139 


,y 


The  jewels  her  daily  and  nightly  thought. 
And  he  ftill  more  by  whom  they  were  brought. 

Fauft,     A4y  heart  is  troubled  for  my  pet. 
Get  her  at  once  another  set ! 
The  firft  were  no  great  things  in  their  way. 

Mephiftopheles.       O   yes,   my  gentleman  finds  all 
child's  play ! 

Fauft.     And  what  I  wifh,  that  mind  and  do  I 

Stick  closely  to  her  neighbor,  too. 

Don't  be  a  devil  soft  as  pap, 

And  fetch  me  some  new  jewels,  old  chap! 

Mephiftopheles.       Yes,  gracious   Sir,    I    will  with 

pleasure. 

\Exit  Faust. 

Such  love-sick  fools  will  pufF  away 

Sun,  moon,  and  ftars,  and  all  in  the  azure, 

To  please  a  maiden's  whimsies,  any  day. 

\Exit. 


FAUST. 


141 


140 


FAUST. 


THE    neighbor's    HOUSE. 

Martha  [alone]. 

My  dear  good  man — whom  God  forgive ! 
He  has  not  treated  me  well,  as  I  live ! 
Right  off  into  the  world  he's  gone 
And  left  me  on  the  flraw  alone. 
I  never  did  vex  him,  I  say  it  sincerely, 
I  always  loved  him,  God  knows  how  dearly. 

[She  iveeps."] 

Perhaps  he's  dead  ! — O  cruel  fate  I — 
If  I  only  had  a  certificate  ! 

Enrer  Margaret. 
Dame  Martha ! 

Martha.     What  now,  Margery  ? 

Margaret.     I   scarce   can    keep   my    knees  from 
sinkino; ! 
Within  my  press,  again,  not  thinking, 
I  find  a  box  of  ebony. 

With  things — can't  tell  how  grand  they  are,— 
More  splendid  than  the  firfl:  by  far. 

Martha.     You  muft  not  tell  it  to  your  mother, 
She'd  serve  it  as  fhe  did  the  other. 

Margaret^     Ah,  only  look  I     Behold  and  see  I 

Martha  \puts  them  on  her].      Fortunate  thing!     1 
envy  thee  I 


^] 


Margaret.     Alas,  in  the  ftreet  or  at  church  I  never 
Could  be  seen  on  any  account  whatever. 

Martha.      Come  here  as  often  as  you've  leisure, 
And  prink  yourself  quite  privately  ; 
Before  the  looking-glass  walk  up  and  down  at  pleas- 
ure. 
Fine  times  for  both  us  'twill  be  ; 
Then,  on  occasions,  say  at  some  great  feaft. 
Can  fhow  them  to  the  world,  one   at   a  time,  at 

Icaft. 
A  chain,  and  then  an  ear-pearl  comes  to  view  ; 
Your  mother  may  not  see,  we'll  make  some  pretext, 
too. 
Margaret.     Who  could  have  brought  both  cafkets 
in  succession  ? 
There's  something  here  for  juft  suspicion  ! 

[A  knock.'] 
Ah,  God!  If  that's  my  mother— then! 

Martha  [peeping  through  the  blind].    'TIs  a  ftrange 
gentleman — come  in ! 

[Enter  Mephistopheles.] 
Muft,  ladies,  on  your  kindness  reckon 
To  excuse  the  freedom  I  have  taken  ; 

[Steps  back  ivith  profound  respect  at  seeing  Margaret.] 
I  would  for  Dame  Martha  Schwerdtlein  inquire! 
Martha.     I'm  fhe,  what,  sir,  is  your  desire  ? 
Mephiftopheles  [aside  to  her].      I  know  your  face, 

for  now  'twill  do  j 
A  diftinguifhed  lady  is  visiting  you. 


142 


FAUST. 


For  a  call  so  abrupt  be  pardon  meted, 

This  afternoon  it  fhall  be  repeated. 

Martha  [aloud'].     For  all  the  world,  think,  child! 
my  sakes  ! 
The  gentleman  you  for  a  lady  takes. 

Margaret,     Ah,  God  !  I  am  a  poor  young  blood  ; 
The  gentleman  is  quite  too  good ; 
The  jewels  and  trinkets  are  none  of  my  own. 

Mephiftopheles.  Ah,  'tis  not  the  jewels  and  trinkets 
alone ; 
Her  look  is  so  piercing,  so  diftingue  ! 
How  glad  I  am  to  be  suffered  to  flay. 

Martha.     What  bring  you,  sir  ?    I  long  to  hear— 

Mephiftopheles.     Would  I'd  a  happier  tale  for  your 


car! 


I  hope  you'll  forgive  me  this  one  for  repeating : 
Your  husband  is  dead  and  sends  you  a  greeting. 

Martha.  Is  dead?  the  faithful  heart!  Woe!  Woe! 
My  husband  dead!     I,  too,  jQiall  go! 

Margaret.     Ah,  deareft  Dame,  despair  not  thou! 

Mephiftopheles.     Then,   hear    the   mournful   flory 
now ! 

Margaret,     Ah,  keep  me  free  from  love  forever, 
I  fhould  never  survive  such  a  loss,  no,  never! 

Mephiftopheles.     Joy  and  woe,  woe  and  joy,  mufl 
have  each  other. 

Martha.     Describe  his  closing  hours  to  me ! 

Mephiftopheles.    In  Padua  lies  our  departed  brother. 


FAUST. 


143 


In  the  churchyard  of  St.  Anthony, 

In  a  cool  and  quiet  bed  lies  deeping. 
In  a  sacred  spot's  eternal  keeping. 

Martha.      And  this  was  all  you  had  to  bring  me  ? 

Mephiftopheles.      All  but   one   weighty,   grave   re- 

queft! 
^'  Bid  her,  when   I  am  dead,  three  hundred  masses 


SHig  me  1 


With  this  I  have  made  a  clean  pocket  and  brealt. 

Martha.     What !  not  a  medal,  pin  nor  (tone  ? 
Such  as,  for  memory's  sake,  no  journeyman  will  lack. 
Saved  in  the  bottom  of  his  sack, 
And  sooner  would  hunger,  be  a  pauper— 

Mephiftopheles.    Madam,  your  case  is  hard,  I  own! 
But  blame  him  not,  he  squandered  ne'er  a  copper. 
He  too  bewailed  his  faults  with  penance  sore. 
Ay,  and   his  wretched   luck  bemoaned  a  great  deal 
more. 

Margaret.     Alas !  that  mortals  so  unhappy  prove! 

I  surely  will  for  him  pray  many  a  requiem  duly. 
Mephiftopheles.     You're  worthy  of  a  spouse  this 
moment ;  truly 
Y  :u  are  a  child  a  man  might  love. 

Margaret.     It's  not  yet  time  for  that,  ah  no! 
Mephiftopheles.     If  not  a  husband,  say,  meanwhile 
a  beau. 
It  is  a  choice  and  heavenly  blessing. 
Such  a  dear  thing  to  one's  bosom  pressing. 


144 


FAUST. 


Margaret,     With  us  the  cuflom  is  not  so. 
Mcphiftopheles.      Cuflom    or    not!       It    happens, 

though. 
Martha.     Tell  on ! 
Mephiftopheles.     I   ftood  beside  his  bed,  as  he  lay 

dying, 
Better  than  dung  it  was  somewhat, — 
Half-rotten    llraw  j    but    then,   he    died   as  Chriftian 

ought. 
And  found  an  unpaid  score,  on  Heaven's  account- 
book  lying. 
"  How  muft  I  hate  myself,"  he  cried,  "  inhuman! 
So  to  forsake  my  business  and  my  woman  I 
Oh!  the  remembrance  murders  me! 
Would  fhe  mi2;ht  ftill  forcrive  me  this  side  heaven ! " 
Martha  [weeping'].     The  dear  good  man!  he  has 

been  long  forgiven. 
Mephiftopheles.     "  But  God  knows,  I  was  less  to 

blame  than  fhe." 
Martha.    A  lie  !  And  at  death's  door !  abominable ! 
Mephiftopheles.     If  I  to  judge  of  men  half-way  am 

able. 
He  surely  fibbed  while  passing  hence. 
"  Ways  to  kill  time,  (he  said) — be  sure,  I  did  not 

need  them ; 
Firfl  to  get  children — and  then  bread  to  feed  them, 
And  bread,  too,  in  the  widcil  sense. 
And  even  to  eat  my  bit  in  peace  could  not  be  thought 


FAUST. 


H5 


Martha.     Has  he  all  faithfulness,  all  love,  so  far 
forgotten. 
The  drudgery  by  day  and  night! 

Mephiftopheles.      Not  so,  he  thought  of  you  with 
all  hi>  mi2;ht. 
He  said  :  "  When  I  from  Malta  went  away. 
For  wife  and  children  my  warm  prayers  ascended ; 
And  Heaven  so  far  our  cause  befriended, 
Our  flu'p  a  Turkifh  cruiser  took  one  dav. 
Which  for  the  mighty  Sultan  bore  a  treasure. 

Then  valor  got  its  well-earned  pay. 

And  I  too,  who  received  but  my  juft  measure, 

A  goodly  portion  bore  awav." 

Martha.      How?     Where?      And  he  has  left   it 

somev/here  burled  ? 
Mephiftopheles.      Who  knows  which  way  by  the 
four  winds  'twas  carried  ? 
He  chanced  to  take  a  pretty  damsel's  eye, 
As,  a  flrange  sailor,  he  through  Naples  jaunted; 
All  that  file  did  for  him  so  tenderly. 
E'en  to  his  blessed  end  the  poor  man  haunted. 
Martha,     The  scamp  !  his  children  thus  to  plun- 
der ! 

And  could  not  all  his  troubles  sore 
Arrefl  his  vile  career,  I  wonder  ? 

Mephiftopheles.      But   mark!   his  death  wipes    ofF 
the  score. 
Were  I  in  your  place  now,  good  lady ; 

lO 


146 


FAUST. 


One  year  I'd  mourn  him  piously 

And  look  about,  meanwhiles,  for  a  new  flame  already. 

Martha,     Ah,  God  !  another  such  as  he 
I  may  not  find  with  ease  on  this  side  heaven  ! 
Few  such  kind  fools  as  this  dear  spouse  of  mine. 
Only  to  roving  he  was  too  much  given, 
And  foreign  women  and  foreign  wine. 
And  that  accursed  game  of  dice. 

Meph'iftopheles,     Mere  trifles  these  ;  you  need  not 
heed  'em, 
If  he,  on  his  part,  not  o'er-nice, 
Winked  at,  in  you,  an  occasional  freedom. 
I  swear,  on  that  condition,  too, 
I  would,  myself,  'change  rings  with  you  ! 

Martha.     The  gentleman  is  pleased  to  jefl  now! 

Meph'iftopheles  \aslde\,     I  see  it's  now  high  time  I 
ftirred  ! 
She'd  take  the  very  devil  at  his  word. 

[To  Margery.] 
How  is  it  with  your  heart,  my  beft,  now  ? 
Margaret.     What  means  the  gentleman  ? 
Mephiftopheles.    \_aside\.       Thou    innocent    youn^ 
heart ! 

lAhud.1 
Ladies,  farewell ! 

Margaret,     Farewell  ! 
Martha.     But  quick,  before  we  part  !— 
I'd  like  some  witness,  vouching  truly 


FAUST. 


H7 


Where,  how  and  when  my  love  died  and  was  burled 

duly. 
I've  always  paid  to  order  great  attention, 
Would  of  his  death  read  some  newspaper  mention. 
Mephiftopheles.     Ay,  my  dear  lady.  In  the  mouths 
of  two 
Good  witnesses  each  word  Is  true ; 
I've  a  friend,  a  fine  M\ow,  who,  when  you  desire, 
Will  render  on  oath  what  you  require. 
I'll  bring  him  here. 

Martha.     O  pray,  sir,  do ! 

Mephiftopheles.     And  this  young  lady  '11  be  there 
too? 

Fine  boy  !  has  travelled  everywhere, 

And  all  politeness  to  the  fair. 

Margaret.   Before  him  fhame  my  face  mufl  cover 
Mephiftopheles.      Before  no   king   the  wide  world 
over  I 

Martha.     Behind  the   house,  in  my  garden,  at 
leisure, 
^Ve'U  wait  this  eve  the  gentlemen's  pleasure. 


^ 


X48 


FAUST. 


STREET. 


Faust.    Mephistopheles. 


FauJ},     How  now?     What  progress?      Will  't 

come  right  ? 
Mephiftopheles,     Ha,  bravo  ?   So  you're  all  on  fire  ? 
Full  soon  you*ll  see  whom  you  desire. 
In  neighbor  Martha's  grounds  we  are  to  meet  to- 
night. 
That  woman's  one  of  nature's  picking 
For  pandering  and  gipsy-triclcing  ! 
Fauft.      So  far,  so  good ! 
Mephiftopheles.     But  one  thing  we  mufl  do. 
Fauft,      Well,  one  good  turn  deserves  another, 

true. 
Mephiftopheles.     We  simply  make  a  solemn  depo- 

♦  sition 

That  her  lord's  bones  are  laid  in  good  condition 
In  holy  ground  at  Padua,  hid  from  view. 

FauJ}.   That's  wise  !  But  then  we  firfl:  muft  make 

the  journey  thither? 
Mephiftopheles.       Sancta  simpUcitas!    no   need   of 
such  to-do  ; 
Juft  swear,  and  a(k  not  why  or  whether. 

FauJ}.     If  that's  the  bcft  you  have,  the  plan's  not 
worth  a  feather. 


FAUST. 


[49 


I 


Mephiftopheles.   O  holy  man  !  now  that's  juft  you  ! 
In  all  thy  life  haft  never,  to  this  hour, 
To  give  false  witness  taken  pains? 
Have  you  of  God,  the  world,  and  all  that  It  contains. 
Of  man,  and  all  that  flirs  within  his  heart  and  brains, 
Not  given  definitions  with  great  power. 
Unscrupulous  breafl:,  unblufhing  brow  ? 
And  if  you  search  the  matter  clearly. 
Knew  you  as  much  thereof,  to  speak  sincerely, 
As  of  Herr  Schwerdtlein's  death  ?     Confess  it  now  ! 

Fauft.     Thou  always  waft  a  sophift  and  a  liar. 

Mephiftopheles.     Ay,  if  one  did  not  look  a  little 
ni2;her. 
For  win  you  not.  In  honor,  to-morrow 
Befool  poor  Margery  to  her  sorrow, 
And  all  the  oaths  of  true  love  borrow  ? 

Fauft.     And  from  the  heart,  too. 

Mephiftopheles,  Well  and  fair  ! 

Then  there  '11  be  talk  of  truth  unending. 
Of  love  o'ermaftering,  all  transcending — 
Will  every  word  be  heart-born  there  ? 

Fauft,     Enough!     It  will  ! — If,  for  the  passion     • 
That  fills  and  thrills  my  being's  frame, 
I  find  no  name,  no  fit  expression, 
Then,  through  the  world,  with  all  my  senses,  rang- 


iJ^g> 


b> 


Seek  what  moft  ftrongly  speaks  the  unchanging 
And  call  this  glow,  within  me  burning, 


150 


FAUST. 


Infinite — endless — endless  yearning, 
Is  that  a  devililh  lying  game  ? 

Mephiftopheles,     Vm  right,  nathless  ! 

Fauft.  Now,  hark  to  mc — 

This  once,  I  pray,  and  spare  my  lung?,  old  fellow — 
Whoever  will  be  right,  and  has  a  tongue  to  bellow. 

Is  sure  to  be. 

But  come  J  enough  of  swaggering,  let's  be  quit, 

For  thou  art  right,  because  I  mud  submit. 


•9015 


FAUST. 


151 


GARDEN. 
Margaret  on  Faust's  arm.  Martha  'witb  Mephistopheles. 

[^Promenading  up  and  doivn.'\ 

Margaret.     The  gentleman  but  makes  me  more 
confused 
With  all  his  condescending  goodness. 
Men  who  have  travelled  wide  are  used 
To  bear  with  much  from  dread  of  rudeness  ; 
I  know  too  well,  a  man  of  so  much  mind 
In  my  poor  talk  can  little  pleasure  find. 

Fauft.     One  look  from  thee,  one  word,  delights 
me  more 
Than  this  world's  wisdom  o'er  and  o'er. 

\_Kisses  her  bandJ] 

Margaret.     Don't  take  that  trouble,  sir!     How 
could  you  bear  to  kiss  it  ? 
A  hand  so  ugly,  coarse,  and  rough ! 
How  much  I've  had  to  do !   muft  I  confess  it — 
Mother  is  more  than  close  enough. 

\JI%ey  pass  on."] 
Martha.     And  you,  sir,  are  you  always  travelling 

so? 
Mephlftopheles.     Alas,  that  business  forces  us  to 
do  it! 
With  what  regret  from  many  a  place  we  go, 
Though  tendereft  bonds  may  bind  us  to  it! 


152 


FAUST. 


Martha.     'Twill  do  in  youth's  tumultuous  maze 
To  wander  round  the  world,  a  careless  rover ; 
But  soon  will  come  the  evil  days, 
And  then,  a  lone  dry  ftick,  on  the  grave's  brink  to 

hover, 
For  that  nobody  ever  prays. 

Mcph'iftopheles.     The  diftant  prospea  fhakcs  my 

reason. 
Martha,     Then,  worthy  sir,  bethink  yourself  in 

season. 

[They  pass  on.'] 

Margaret.     Yes,  out  of  sight  and  out  of  mind  ! 
Politeness  you  find  no  hard  matter ; 
But  you  have  friends  in  plenty,  better 
Than  I,  more  sensible,  more  refined. 

Fauft.       Dear  girl,  what   one    calls   sensible   on 
earth, 
Is  often  vanity  and  nonsense. 

Margaret.  How  ? 

Fauft.     Ah,  that  the  pure  and  simple  never  know 
Aught  of  themselves  and  all  their  holy  worth! 
That  meekness,  lowliness,  the  highell  measure 
Of  gifts  by  nature  lavifhed,  full  and  free — 

Margaret,    One  little  moment,  only,  think  of  me, 
I  fhall  to  think  of  you  have  ample  time  and  leisure. 

Fauft.     You're,  may  be,  much  abne  ? 

Margaret.      Our  household  is  but  small,  I  own. 
And  yet  needs  care,  if  truth  were  known. 


Ot 


FAUST.  153 

We  have  no  maid ;  so  I  attend  to  cooking,  sweep- 
ing:. 
Knit,  sew,  do  every  thing,  in  fa^ ; 
And  mother,  in  all  branches  of  housekeeping, 
Is  so  exa6t ! 

Not  that  fhe  need  be  tied  so  very  closely  down ; 
We  might  ftand  hiojher  than  some  others,  rather  j 
A  nice  eflate  was  left  us  by  my  father, 
A  house  and  garden  not  far  out  of  town. 
Yet,  after  all,  my  life  runs  pretty  quiet  j 
My  brother  is  a  soldier. 
My  little  sifter's  dead  ; 

With  the  dear  child  indeed  a  wearing  life  I  led  j 
And  yet  with  all  its  plagues  again  would  gladly  try  it, 
The  child  was  such  a  pet. 

Faujl.     An  angel,  if  like  thee ! 

Alar  gar  et.     I   reared  her   and   (he   heartily  loved 
me. 
She  and  my  father  never  saw  each  other. 
He  died  before  her  birth,  and  mother 
Was  given  up,  so  low  fhe  lay, 
But  fhe,  by  flow  degrees,  recovered,  day  by  day. 
Of  course  fhe  now,  long  time  so  feeble. 
To  nurse  the  poor  little  worm  was  unable, 
And  so  I  reared  it  all  alone. 
With  milk  and  water  j  'twas  my  own. 
Upon  my  bosom  all  day  long 
It  smiled  and  sprawled  and  so  grew  flrong. 


'54 


FAUST. 


FAUST. 


155 


Fauft.      Ah!  thou  haft  truly   known  joy*s   faireft 
flower, 

M'argaret.     But  no  less  truly  many  a  heavy  hour. 
The  wee  thing's  cradle  ftood  at  night 
Close  to  my  bed  ;  did  the  leaft  thing  awake  her. 
My  flecp  took  flight ; 

*Twas  now  to  nurse  her,  now  in  bed  to  take  her, 
Then,  if  fhe  was  not  ftill,  to  rise. 
Walk  up  and  down  the  room,  and  dance  away  her 

cries. 
And  at  the  wafh-tub  ftand,  when  morning  ftreaked 

the  fkies; 
Then  came  the  marketing  and  kitchen-tending, 
Day  in,  day  out,  work  never-ending. 
One  cannot  always,  sir,  good  temper  keep ; 
But  then  it  sweetens  food  and  sweetens  fleep. 

[They  pass  onS] 

Martha.     But  the  poor  women  suffer,  you  muft 

own  : 
A  bachelor  is  hard  of  reformation. 

Mephiftopheks.    Madam,  it  refts  with  such  as  you, 

alone, 

To  help  me  mend  my  situation. 

Martha.     Speak  plainly,  sir,  has  none  your  fancy 
taken  ? 
Has  none  made  out  a  tender  flame  to  waken  ? 
Mephiftopheks.    The  proverb  says  :  A  man's  own 
hearth, 
And  a  brave  wife,  all  gold  and  pearls  are  worth. 


Martha.  I  mean,  has  ne'er  your  heart  been  smit- 
ten flightly  ? 

Alephiftopheles.  I  have,  on  every  hand,  been  en- 
tertained politely. 

Martha,  Have  you  not  felt,  I  mean,  a  serious 
intention  ? 

Mephiftopheks.  Jefting  with  women,  that's  a  thing 
one  ne'er  fhould  mention. 

Martha,     Ah,  you  misunderftand! 

Mephiftopheks.     It  grieves  me  that  I  fhould ! 

But  this  I  underftand — that  you  are  good. 

\Tl)ey  pass  on.] 

Faujl.     So  then,  my  little  angel  recognized  me. 

As  I  came  through  the  garden  gate  ? 

Margaret,  Did  not  my  downcaft  eyes  fhow  you 
surprised  me  ? 

Fauft.     And  thou  forgav'ft  that  liberty,  of  late  ? 
That  impudence  of  mine,  so  daring, 
As  thou  waft  home  from  church  repairing? 

Margaret.     I  was  confused,  the, like  was  new  to 
me  ; 
No  one  could  say  a  word  to  my  dishonor. 
Ah,  thought  I,  has  he,  haply,  in  thy  manner 
Seen  any  boldness — impropriety  ? 
It  seemed  as  if  the  feeling  seized  him. 
That  he  might  treat  this  girl  juft  as  it  pleased  him. 
Let  me  confess  I     I  knew  not  from  what  cause, 
Some  flight  relentings  here  began  to  threaten  danger; 


I 


156  FAUST. 

I  know,  right  angry  with  myself  I  was, 
That  I  could  not  be  angrier  with  the  ftranger. 

Fauft,      Sweet  darling ! 

Margaret.     Let  me  once ! 
\She  fuch  a  china-aster  and  picks  off  the  leaves  one  after  an 

other.'] 

Fauft,     What*s  that  for  ?     A  bouquet  ? 

Margaret.     No,  juft  for  sport. 

Fauft.      How  ? 

Margaret.     Go !  you'll  laugh  at  me ;  away ! 

\_She  picks  and  murmurs  to  herself.] 
Fauft.      What  murmureR  thou  ? 
Margaret  [half  ahvd].     He  loves  me — loves  me 

not. 
Fauft.     Sweet  fat  z .'   from  heaven  that  look  was 

caught ! 
Margaret  [goes  or}.    Loves  nic — not — loves  me— 

not — 

[picking  offfK'  Ut  L'cfuLUh  te.jder  joy] 

He  loves  me ! 

Faujl.     Yes,  my  r\\\\  \     And  le  tVIs  floral  word 
An  oracle  to  thee.     He  U>rts  theo ! 
Knoweft  thou  all  it  mean-^^  **     He  lov  ii  thee ! 

[Clasping  ho*l  /♦»  lar.ds.j 
Margaret.     What  thrill  is  lM«ii 
Fauft,     O,  fhudder  not  I     Thir  iooi  t^'^ryue. 

This  pressure  of  the  hand  fhall  t».li  t^^ 
What  cannot  be  expressed  : 


I 


♦ 


FAUST. 


157 


# 


Give  thyself  up  at  once  and  feel  a  rapture, 

An  ecftasy  never  to  end! 

Never ! — It's  end  were  nothing  but  blank  despair. 

No,  unending!  unending! 

[Margaret  presses   his   bands^  extricates   herself  and  runs 

aixjoy.     He  stands  a  moment  in  thought,  then  folh-vos  her]. 

Martha  [cQming\     The  night  falls  faft. 

Mephiftopheles.     Ay,  and  we  muft  away. 

Martha.     If  it  were  not  for  one  vexation, 
I  would  insift  upon  your  longer  ftay. 
Nobody  seems  to  have  no  occupation. 
No  care  nor  labor, 

Except  to  play  the  spy  upon  his  neighbor ; 
And  one  becomes  town-talk,  do  whatsoe'er  they  may. 
But  where's  our  pair  of  doves? 

Mephiftopheles.     Flown  up  the  alley  yonder. 
Light  summer-birds ! 

Martha.     He  seems  attached  to  her. 

Mephiftopheles.     No  wonder. 
And  fhe  to  him.     So  goes  the  world,  they  say. 


1 


158 


FAUST. 


A    SUMMER-HOUSE. 

Margaret  [darts  in,  hides  behind  the  door,  presses  the  tip  0/ 
her  finger  to  her  lips,  and  peeps  through  the  crack]. 

Margaret,      He  comes! 

Enter  Faust. 
Fauft,     Ah  rogue,  how  fly  thou  art! 

I've  caught  thee  ! 

\Kisses  her?^ 

Margaret  [embracing  him  and  returning  the  kiss']. 
Dear  good  man  !     I  love  thee  from  my  heart! 
[Mephistopheles  knocks.] 
Fauft  [/tamping].     Who's  there  ? 
Mephiftopheles.      A  friend ! 
Fauft.     A  beaft ! 

Mephiftopheles.     Time  flies,  I  don't  offend  you? 
Martha  [entering].      Yes,  sir,  'tis  growing  late. 
Fauft.     May  I  not  now  attend  you  ? 
Margaret.     Mother  would — Fare  thee  well ! 
Fauft.      And  muft  I  leave  thee  then? 

Farewell ! 

Martha.     Ade ! 

Margaret.      Till,  soon,  we  meet  again! 

[Exeunt  Faust  and  Mephistopheles. 

Margaret.  Good  heavens  I  what  such  a  man's  one 

brain 


FAUST. 

Can  in  Itself  alone  contain! 
I  blufli  my  rudeness  to  confess, 
And  answer  all  he  says  with  yes. 
Am  a  poor,  ignorant  child,  don't  see 
What  he  can  possibly  find  in  me. 


159 


[Exit. 


I 


i6o 


FAUST. 


WOODS    AND    CAVERN. 

Fauft   [alone].       Spirit  sublime,   thou  .gav'ft   me, 
gav'ft  me  all 
For  which  I  prayed.      Thou  dldft  not  lift  in  vain 
Thy  face  upon  me  in  a  flame  of  fire. 
Gav'ft  me  majeftic  nature  for  a  realm, 

The  power  to  feel,  enjoy  her.      Not  alone 

A  freezing,  formal  visit  dldft  thou  grant ; 

Deep  down  into  her  breaft  invltedft  me 

To  look,  as  if  fhe  were  a  bosom-friend. 

The  series  of  animated  things 

Thou  bidft  pass  by  me,  teaching  me  to  know 

My  brothers  in  the  waters,  woods,  and  air. 

And  when  the  ftorm-swept  foreft  creaks  and  groans, 

The  giant  pine-tree  crafhes,  rending  off 

The  neighboring  boughs  and  limbs,  and  with  deep 

roar 
The  thundering  mountain  echoes  to  its  fall, 
To  a  safe  cavern  then  thou  leadeft  me, 
Showft  me  myself;  and  my  own  bosom's  deep 
Myfterlous  wonders  open  on  my  view. 
And  when  before  my  sight  the  moon  comes  up 
With  soft  effulgence  ;  from  the  walls  of  rock. 
From  the  damp  thicket,  flowly  float  around 
The  silvery  fhadows  of  a  world  gone  by. 
And  temper  meditation's  fterner  joy. 

O I  nothing  perfed  is  vouchsafed  to  man : 


FAUST. 


i6i 


I  feel  it  now!     Attendant  on  this  bliss. 
Which  brings  me  ever  nearer  to  the  Gods, 
Thou  gav'ft  me  the  companion,  whom  I  now 
No  more  can  spare,  though  cold  and  insolent ; 
He  makes  me  hate,  despise  myself,  and  turns 
Thy  gifts  to  nothing  with  a  word — a  breath. 
He  kindles  up  a  wild-fire  in  my  breaft. 
Of  reftless  longing  for  that  lovely  form. 
Thus  from  desire  I  hurry  to  enjoyment, 
And  in  enjoyment  languifti  for  desire. 

Enter  Mephistopheles. 

Mephiftopheles.     Will  not  this  life  have  tired  you 
by  and  bye  ? 
I  wonder  it  so  long  delights  you  ? 
'Tis  well  enough  for  once  the  thing  to  try ; 
Then  off  to  where  a  new  invites  you  ! 

Fauft.      Would  thou  hadft  something  else  to  do. 
That  thus  to  spoil  my  joy  thou  burncft. 

Mephiftopheles,    Well  I  well  I  I'll  leave  thee,  gladly 
too  ! — 
Thou  dar'ft  not  tell  me  that  in  earneft ! 
'Tvvere  no  great  loss,  a  fellow  such  as  you. 
So  crazy,  snappifli,  and  uncivil. 
One  has,  all  day,  his  hands  full,  and  more  too  ; 
To  worm  out  from  him  what  he'd  have  one  do, 
Or  not  do,  puzzles  e'en  the  very  devil. 

Fauft.     Now,  that  I  like  !     That's  juft  the  tone! 
Wants  thanks  for  boring  me  till  I'm  half  dead  I 

II 


l62 


FAUST. 


FAUST. 


163 


Mephlftophcles.     Poor  son  of  earth,  if  left  alone, 

What  sort  of  life  wouldft  thou  have  led? 

How  oft,  hy  methods  all  my  own, 

I've  chased  the  cobweb  fancies  from  thy  head ! 

And  but  for  me,  to  parts  unknown 

Thou  from  this  earth  hadft  long  since  fled. 

What  doft  thou  here  through  cave  and  crevice  grop- 
ing ? 

Why  like  a  horned  owl  sit  moping  ? 

And  why  from  dripping  stone,  damp  moss,  and  rotten 
wood 

Here,  like  a  toad,  suck  in  thy  food  ? 

Delicious  pastime !     Ah,  I  see. 

Somewhat  of  Dodor  sticks  to  thee. 

Fauft.     What  new  life-power  it  gives  me,  canst 
thou  guess — 

This  conversation  with  the  wilderness  ? 

Ay,  couldst  thou  dream  how  sweet  the  employment. 
Thou  wouldst  be  devil  enough  to  grudge  me  my  en- 
joyment. 
Mephiftopheles.     Ay,  joy  from  super-earthly  foun- 
tains ! 
By  night  and  day  to  lie  upon  the  mountains. 
To  clasp  in  ecstasy  both  earth  and  heaven. 
Swelled  to  a  deity  by  fancy's  leaven. 
Pierce,  like  a  nervous  thrill,  earth's  very  marrow, 

Feel  the  whole  six  days*  work  for  thee  too  narrow. 
To  enjoy,  I  know  not  what,  in  blest  elation. 


Then  with  thy  lavifh  love  overflow  the  whole  crea- 
tion, 
Below  thy  sight  the  mortal  cast. 
And  to  the  glorious  vision  give  at  last — 

[xo/'/A  a  ges/ure'] 

I  must  not  say  what  termination! 

Fauft.     Shame  on  thee ! 

Mephiftopheles,    This  displeases  thee  ;  well,  surely, 
Thou  haft  a  right  to  say  "for  fhame  "  demurely. 
One  mufc  not  mention  that  to  chaste  ears — never, 
Which  chafte  hearts  cannot  do  without,  however. 
And,  in  one  word,  I  grudge  you  not  the  pleasure 
Of  lying  to  yourself  in  moderate  measure ; 

But  'twill  not  hold  out  long,  I  know  j 
Already  thou  art  faft  recoiling, 
And  soon,  at  this  rate,  wilt  be  boiling 
With  madness  or  despair  and  woe. 

Enough  of  this !     Thy  sweetheart  sits  there  lonely, 

And  all  to  her  is  close  and  drear. 

Her  thoughts  are  on  thy  image  only. 

She  holds  thee,  paft  all  utterance,  dear. 

At  iirft  thy  passion  came  bounding  and  rufhing 

Like  a  brooklet  o'erfiowing  with  melted  snow  and 

rain  ; 
Into  her  heart  thou  haft  poured  it  gufliing : 
And  now  thy  brooklet's  dry  again. 
Methinks,  thy  woodland  throne  resigning, 
'Twould  better  suit  so  great  a  lord 


1 64  TAVsr. 

The  poor  young  monkey  to  reward 

For  all  the  love  with  which  (he's  pining. 

She  finds  the  time  dismally  long ; 

Stands  at  the  window,  sees  the  clouds  on  high 

Over  the  old  town-wall  go  by. 

"  Were  I  a  little  bird! "  '^  so  runneth  her  song 

All  the  day,  half  the  night  long. 

At  times  Ihe'll  be  laughing,  seldom  smile, 

At  times  wcpt-out  fhe'll  seem, 

Then  again  tranquil,  you'd  deem, — 

Lovesick  all  the  while. 

Faiift,     Viper!     Viper! 

Meph'tftopheles  [aside].     Ay!  and  the  prey  grows 


riper 


I 


Fauft.      Reprobate!  take  thee  far  behind  me! 
No  more  that  lovely  woman  name ! 
Bid  not  desire  for  her  sweet  person  flame 
Through  each  half-maddened   sense,  again  to  blind 

me! 
Mephiftcpheles,     W^hat  then's  to  do  ?     She  fancies 

thou  haft  flown. 
And  more  than  half  fhe*s  right,  I  own. 

Fauft,     I'm  near  her,  and,  though  far  away,  my 

word, 
IM  not  forget  her,  lose  her ;  never  fear  it! 
I  envy  e'en  the  body  of  the  Lord, 
Oft  as  those  precious  lips  of  hers  draw  near  it. 


FAUST. 


165 


Mephiftopheles,     No  doubt  j  and  oft  my  envious 
thought  reposes 
On  the  twin-pair  that  feed  among  the  roses. 

Fauft,      Out,  pimp  I 

Mephiftopheles,      Well   done  !      Your  jeers  I   find 
fair  game  for  laughter. 
The  God,  who  made  both  lad  and  lass. 
Unwilling  for  a  bungling  hand  to  pass. 
Made  opportunity  right  after. 
But  come !  fine  cause  for  lamentation  I 
Her  chamber  is  your  deftination. 
And  not  the  grave,  I  guess. 

Fauft,     V/hat  arc  the  joys  of  heaven  while  her 
fond  arms  enfold  me  ? 
O  let  her  klndlino;  bosom  hold  me ! 
Feel  I  not  always  her  diftress  ? 
The  houseless  am  I  not  ?  the  unbefriended  ? 
The  monfter  without  aim  or  reft  ? 
That,  like  a  cataract,  from  rock  to  rock  descended 
To  the  abyss,  with  maddening  greed  posseft  : 
She,   on   its    brink,   with    childlike    thoughts    and 

lowly, — 
Perched  on  the  little  Alpine  field  her  cot, — 
This  narrow  world,  so  ftill  and  holy 
Ensphering,  like  a  heaven,  her  lot. 

And  I,  God's  hatred  daring. 

Could  not  be  content 

The  rocks  all  headlong  bearing, 


i66 


FAUST. 


FAUST. 


167 


■* 


By  me  to  ruins  rent, — 

Her,  yea  her  peace,  muft  I  o'erwhelm  and  bury! 

This  vi£llm,  hell,  to  thee  was  necessary ! 

Help  me,  thou  fiend,  the  pang  soon  ending! 

What  muft  be,  let  it  quickly  be  ! 

And  let  her  fate  upon  my  head  descending, 

Crufh,  at  one  blow,  both  her  and  me. 

Mepbiftopheles.     Ha!    how   it   seethes  again   and 
glows  I 
Go  in  and  comfort  her,  thou  dunce ! 
Where  such  a  dolt  no  outlet  sees  or  knows, 
He  thinks  he's  reached  the  end  at  once. 
None  but  the  brave  deserve  the  fair! 
Thou  haft  had  devil  enough  to  make  a  decent  fliow 

of. 
For  all  the  world  a  devil  in  despair 
Is  juft  the  insipideft  thing  I  know  of. 


MARGERY'S    ROOM. 
Margery  \at  the  spinn'wg-uuhecl  alone]. 

My  heart  is  heavy, 
My  peace  is  o'er  ; 
I  never — ah  !  never— 
Shall  find  it  more. 

While  him  I  crave, 
Each  place  is  the  grave. 
The  world  is  all 
Turned  into  gall. 

My  wretched  brain 
Has  loft  its  wits. 
My  wretched  sense 
Is  all  in  bits. 

My  heart  is  heavy. 
My  peace  is  o'er ; 
I  never — ah!  never— 
Shall  find  it  more. 

Him  only  to  greet,  I 
The  ftreet  look  down, 
Him  only  to  meet,  I 
Roam  through  town. 

His  lofty  ftep. 
His  noble  height. 
His  smile  of  sweetness. 
His  eye  of  might. 


1- 

r 


i68 


FAUST. 

His  words  of  magic, 
Breathing  bliss, 
His  hand's  warm  pressure 
And  ah !  his  kiss. 

My  heart  is  heavy, 
My  peace  is  o'er, 
I  never — ah!  never— 
Shall  find  it  more. 

My  bosom  yearns 
To  behold  him  again. 
Ah,  could  I  find  him  " 
That  befl  of  men  ! 
I'd  tell  him  then 
How  I  did  miss  him, 
And  kiss  him 
As  much  as  I  could, 
Die  on  his  kisses 
I  surely  fhould  1 


FAUST. 


Martha's  garden. 


Margaret.     Faust. 


169 


Margaret.      Promise  me,  Henry. 

Fauft.     What  I  can. 

Margaret.    How  is  it  now  with  thy  religion,  say  ? 
I  know  thou  art  a  dear  good  man, 
But  fear  thy  thoughts  do  not  run  much  that  way. 

Faujt.     Leave  that,  my  child  !  Enough,  thou  haft 

my  heart  j 
For  those  I  love  with  life  I'd  freely  part ; 
I  would  not  harm  a  soul,  nor  of  its  faith  bereave  it. 

Margaret.    That's  wrong,  there's  one  true  faith- 
one  muft  believe  it  ? 

Fauft,     Muft  one  \ 

Margaret.     Ah,  could  I  influence  thee,  deareft! 
The  holy  sacraments  thou  scarce  revereft. 

Fauft.     I  honor  them. 

Margaret.      But  yet  without  desire. 
Of  mass  and  confession  both  thou  'ft  lono;  beg-un  to 

tire. 
Believeft  thou  in  God  ? 

Fauft.      ^1y  darling,  who  engages 
To  say,  I  do  believe  in  God  .'' 
The  queftion  put  to  priefts  or  sages  : 
Their  answer  seems  as  if  it  sought 
To  mock  the  aficer. 


170 


FAUST. 


Margaret,     Then  believ'ft  thou  not  ? 
Fauft.      Sweet  face,  do   not  misunderftand  my 
thought ! 
Who  dares  express  him  ? 
And  who  confess  him. 
Saying,  I  do  beHeve  ? 
A  man's  heart  bearing. 
What  man  has  the  daring 
To  say  :   I  acknowledge  him  not  ? 
The  AU-enfolder, 
The  All-upholder, 
Enfolds,  upholds  He  not 
Thee,  me,  Himself? 

Upsprings  not  Heaven's  blue  arch  high  o'er  thee? 

Underneath  thee  does  not  earth  ftand  faft  ? 

Sce'ft  thou  not,  nightly  climbing. 

Tenderly  glancing  eternal  ftars  ? 

Am  I  not  gazing  eye  to  eye  on  thee  ? 

Through  brain  and  bosom 

Thron<xs  not  all  life  to  thee. 

Weaving  in  everlafting  myftery 

Obscurely,  clearly,  on  all  sides  of  thee  ? 

Fill  with  it,  to  its  utmoft  ftretch,  thy  bread. 

And  in  the  consciousness  when  thou  art  wholly  blcft, 

Then  call  it  what  thou  wilt, 

Joy!  Heart!  Love!  God! 

I  have  no  name  to  give  it! 
All  comes  at  laft  to  feeling ; 


im^K^mmmiammi^im-'iS'iiiimM-i 


mmmmmmmi^ 


FAUST. 


171 


Name  is  but  sound  and  smoke. 
Beclouding  Heaven's  warm  glow, 

Margaret,      That  is  all  fine  and  good,  1  know  ; 
And  jufl:  as  the  pricft  has  often  spoke, 
Only  with  somewhat  different  phrases. 

Fauft.      All  hearts,  too,  in  all  places, 
Wherever  Heaven  pours  down  the  day's  broad  bless 

Each  in  its  v/ay  the  truth  is  confessing  j 
And  v/hy  not  I  in  mine,  too  ? 

Margaret,    Well,  all  have  a  way  that  they  incline 
to. 
But  flill  there  is  something  wrong  with  thee  j 
Thou  hafl  no  Chriflianity. 

Fauft,     Dear  child ! 

Alargaret,     It  long  has  troubled  me 
That  thou  fhouldft  keep  such  company. 

Fauft.     How  so  ? 

Margaret,     The  man  whom  thou  for  crony  hast. 
Is  one  whom  I  with  all  my  soul  detest. 

Nothing  in  all  my  life  has  ever 

Stirred  up  in  my  heart  such  a  deep  disfavor 

As  the  ugly  face  that  man  has  got. 

Fauft.      Sweet  plaything  ;   fear  him  not! 

Margaret.      His  presence  stirs  my  blood,  I  own, 
I  can  love  almost  all  men  I've  ever  known  ; 
But  much  as  thy  presence  with  pleasure  thrills  me, 
That  man  with  a  secret  horror  fills  me. 


172 


FAUST. 


FAUST. 


173 


And  then  for  a  knave  Tve  suspeaed  him  long! 
God  pardon  me,  if  I  do  him  wrong! 

Fauft.      To  make   up  a  world  such  odd  sticks  are 

needed. 
Margaret,     Shouldn't  like  to  live  in   the   house 

where  he  did ! 
Whenever  I  see  him  coming  in, 
He  always  wears  such  a  mocking  grin, 
Half  cold,  half  grim; 

One  sees,  that  naught  has  interest  for  him  ; 
*Tis  writ  on  his  brow  and  can't  be  mistaken, 
No  soul  in  him  can  love  awaken. 
I  feel  in  thy  arms  so  happy,  so  free, 

I  yield  myself  up  so  blissfully, 

He  comes,  and  all  in  me  is  closed  and  frozen  now. 
Fauft.     Ah,  thou  mistrustful  angel,  thou! 
Margaret.     This  weighs  on  m'e  so  sore, 

That  when  we  meet,  and  he  is  by  me, 

I  feel,  as  if  I  loved  thee  now  no  more. 

Nor  could  I  ever  pray,  if  he  were  nigh  me, 

That  eats  the  very  heart  in  me  ; 
Henry,  it  must  be  so  with  thee. 

Fauft.     'Tis  an  antipathy  of  thine  ! 

Margaret.     Farewell ! 

Fauft.     Ah,  can  I  ne'er  recline 
One  little  hour  upon  thy  bosom,  pressing 
My  heart  to  thine  and  all  my  soul  confessing  ? 

Margaret.     Ah,  if  my  chamber  were  alone, 


f 


This  night  the  bolt  should  give  thee  free  admission ; 
But  mother  wakes  at  every  tone. 
And  if  fhe  had  the  least  suspicion. 

Heavens  !  I  fhould  die  upon  the  spot! 

Fauft.     Thou  angel,  need  of  that  there's  not. 
Here  is  a  flafk  I     Three  drops  alone 
Mix  with  her  drink,  and  nature 
Into  a  deep  and  pleasant  fleep  is  thrown. 

Margaret.     Refuse  thee,  what  can  I,  poor  crea- 
ture ? 
I  hope,  of  course,  it  will  not  harm  her  ! 

Fauft.     Would  I  advise  it  then,  my  charmer  ? 

Margaret.    Best  man,  when  thou  dost  look  at  me, 
I  know  not  what,  moves  me  to  do  thy  will ; 
I  have  already  done  so  much  for  thee, 
Scarce  any  thing  seems  left  me  to  fulfil. 

\Exit. 

Enter  Mephistopheles. 
Mephlftopheles.     The  monkey  I  is  fhe  gone  ? 
Fauft.      Hast  played  the  spy  again  ? 
Mephlftopheles.     I  overheard  it  all  quite  fully. 

The  Do£tor  has  been  well  catechized  then  ? 
Hope  it  will  sit  well  on  him  truly. 
The  maidens  won't  rest  till  they  know  if  the  men 
Believe  as  good  old  custom  bids  them  do. 
They  think :  if  there  he  yields,  he'll  follow  our  will 
too. 
Fauft.     Monster,  thou  wilt  not,  canst  not  see, 


174  FAUST. 

How  this  true  soul  that  loves  so  dearly, 

Yet  hugs,  at  every  cost, 

The  faith  which  fhe 

Counts  Heaven  itself,  is  horror-struck  sincerely 

To  think  of  giving  up  her  dearest  man  for  lost. 

Me;hiftopheles.  Thou  supersensual,  sensual  wooer, 
A  girl  by  the  nose  is  leading  thee. 

Fauft,     Abortion  vile  of  fire  and  sewer ! 

Mephiftopheles,     In  physiognomy,  too,  her  skill  is 
masterly. 
When  I  am  near  fhe  feels  fhe  knows  not  how, 
My  little  mafk  some  secret  meaning  fhows  ; 
She  thinks,  Pm  certainly  a  genius,  now, 
Perhaps  the  very  devil — ^who  knows  ? 
To-night  then  ? — 

Fauft,     Well,  what's  that  to  you  ? 

Mephiftopheles,     I  find  my  pleasure  in  it,  too ! 


FAUST. 


175 


1 


AT    THE   WELL. 

Margery  and  Lizzy  nxjith  Pitchers, 

Lizzy,     Hast  heard  no  news  of  Barbara  to-day  ? 
Margery,      No,  not  a  word.      IVe  not  been  out 

much  lately. 
Lizzy,      It   came    to    me    through   Sybill  very 
straightly. 
She's  made  a  fool  of  herself  at  last,  they  say. 
That  comes  of  taking  airs  I 

Margery,     What  meanst  thou  ? 
Lizzy,  Pah ! 

She  daily  eats  and  drinks  for  two  now. 
Margery,  Ah , 

Lizzy,     It  serves  the  jade  right  for  being  so  cal- 
low. 
How  long  fhe's  been  hanging  upon  the  fellow ! 

Such  a  promenading  ! 

To  fair  and  dance  parading ! 

Everywhere  as  first  fhe  must  fhine, 

He  was  treating  her  always  with  tarts  and  wine  ; 

She  began  to  think  herself  something  fine, 

And  let  her  vanity  so  degrade  her 

That  fhe  even  accepted  the  presents  he  made  her. 

There- was  hugging  and  smacking,  and  so  it  went 

on — 
And  lo  !  and  behold !  the  flower  is  gone  ! 


1^5  FAUST. 

Margery       Poor  thing  ! 

Liz%y.     Canst  any  pity  for  her  feel  ! 
When  such  as  we  spun  at  the  wheel,      . 
Our  mothers  kept  us  in-doors  after  darkj 
While  fhe  stood  cozy  with  her  spark. 
Or  sate  on  the  door-bench,  or  sauntered  round. 
And  never  an  hour  too  long  they  found. 
But  now  her  pride  may  let  itself  down. 
To  do  penance  at  church  in  the  sinner's  gown! 

Margery.     He'll  certainly  take  her  for  his  wife. 

Lixxy.      He'd  be  a  fool !      A  spruce  young  blade 
Has  room  enough  to  ply  his  trade. 
Besides,  he's  gone. 

Margery.      Now,  that's  not  fair  ! 
Lixxy,    If  fhe  gets  him,  her  lot  '11  be  hard  to  bear. 
The  boys  will  tear  up  her  wreath,  and  what's  more, 

We'll  strew  chopped  straw  before  her  door. 

[Exlu 

Margery  [going  home].     Time  was  when  I,  too, 
instead  of  bewailing, 
Could  boldly  jeer  at  a  poor  girl's  failing  ! 
When  my  scorn  could  scarcely  find  expression 

At  hearing  of  another's  transgression  ! 

How  black  it  seemed!  though  black  as  could  be, 

It  never  was  black  enough  for  me. 

I  blessed  my  soul,  and  felt  so  high. 

And  now,  myself,  in  sin  I  lie ! 

Yet — all  that  led  me  to  it,  sure, 

O  God !  it  was  so  dear,  so  pure  ! 


FAUST. 


177 


^ 


i 


27 


DONJON. 

[/«  a  niche  a  denjotional  image  of  the  Mater  Dolorosa^  before  it 

pots  offloivers.'] 

Margery  \_puts  fresb  foivers  into  the  pots'}* 
Ah,  hear  me. 
Draw  kindly  near  me, 
Mother  of  sorrows,  heal  my  woe ! 

Sword-pierced,  and  stricken 

With  pangs  that  sicken, 

Thou  seefl  thy  son's  lafl  life-blood  flow  ! 

Thy  look — thy  sighing — 

To  God  are  crying. 

Charged  with  a  son's  and  mother's  woe! 

Sad  mother ! 

What  other 

Knows  the  pangs  that  eat  me  to  the  bone  ? 

What  within  my  poor  heart  burneth, 

How  it  trembleth,  how  it  yearneth. 

Thou  canst  feel  and  thou  alone  I 

Go  where  I  will,  I  never 
Find  peace  or  hope — forever 
Woe,  woe  and  misery ! 
12 


178  FAUST. 

Alone,  when  all  are  fleeping, 
Tm  weeping,  weeping,  weeping, 
My  heart  is  crufhed  in  me. 

The  pots  before  my  window, 
In  the  early  morning-hours, 
Alas,  my  tears  bedewed  them, 
As  I  plucked  for  thee  these  flowers, 

When  the  bright  sun  good  morrow 
In  at  my  window  said. 
Already,  in  my  anguifh, 
I  sate  there  in  my  bed. 

From  (hame  and  death  redeem  me,  oh! 

Draw  near  me, 

And,  pitying,  hear  me. 

Mother  of  sorrows,  heal  my  woe ! 


1 


i 


FAUST. 
NIGHT. 


179 


Street  before  Margery's  Door, 
Valentine  [soldier,  Margery's  brotberl. 
When  at  the  mess  I  used  to  sit, 
Where  many  a  one  will  fhow  his  wit, 
And  heard  my  comrades  one  and  all 
The  flower  of  the  sex  extol. 
Drowning  their  praise  with  bumpers  high. 
Leaning  upon  my  elbows,  I 
Would  hear  the  braggadocios  through. 
And  then,  when  it  came  my  turn,  too. 
Would  stroke  my  beard  and,  smiling,  say, 
A  brimming  bumper  in  my  hand : 

All  very  decent  in  their  way ! 

But  is  there  one,  in  all  the  land, 

With  my  sweet  Margy  to  compare, 

A  candle  to  hold  to  my  sister  fair  ? 

Bravo  !     Kling !     Klang !  it  echoed  round  ! 

One  party  cried :  'tis  truth  he  speaks. 

She  is  the  jewel  of  the  sex  ! 

And  the  braggarts  all  in  silence  were  bound. 

And  now !— one  could  pull  out  his  hair  with  vexation, 

And  run  up  the  walls  for  mortification  ! — 
i:veiy  two-legged  creature  that  goes  in  breeches 
Can  mock  me  with  sneers  and  stinging  speeches! 
And  I  like  a  guilty  debtor  sitting. 
For  fear  of  each  casual  word  am  sweating  I 


i8o 


FAUST. 


And  though  I  could  smafh  them  in  my  ire, 

I  dare  not  call  a  soul  of  them  liar. 

What's  that  comes  yonder,  sneaking  along  ? 
There  are  two  of  them  there,  if  I  see  not  wrong. 
Is't  he,  ril  give  him  a  dose  that'll  cure  him, 
He'll  not  leave  the  spot  alive,  I  assure  him  I 
Faust.     Mephistopheles. 

Fauft.     How  from  yon  window  of  the  sacristy 
The  ever-burning  lamp  sends  up  its  glimmer, 

And  round  the  edge  grows  ever  dimmer. 
Till  in  the  gloom  its  flickerings  die  ! 
So  in  my  bosom  all  is  nightlike. 

Meph'iftopheles.     A  starving  tom-cat   I    feci  quite 
like. 
That  o'er  the  fire  ladders  crawls 
Then  softly  creeps  around  the  walls. 
My  aim's  quite  virtuous  ne'ertheless, 
A  bit  of  thievifh  lust,  a  bit  of  wantonness. 
I  feel  it  all  my  members  haunting — 
The  glorious  Walpurgis  night. 
One  day — then  comes  the  feast  enchanting 
That  fhall  all  pinings  well  requite. 

Fauft.   Meanwhile  can  that  the  cafket  be,  I  wonder, 
I  see  behind  rise  glittering  yonder.'^ 

Meph'iftopheles.      Yes,  and  thou  soon  (halt  have  the 
pleasure 
Of  lifting  out  the  precious  treasure. 


FAUST. 


i8i 


I  lately  'neath  the  lid  did  squint, 
Has  piles  of  lion-dollars  ^'  in't. 

Fauft.     But  not  a  jewel  ?     Not  a  ring  ? 
To  deck  my  mistress  not  a  trinket  ? 

Meph'iftopheles.     I  caught  a  glimpse  of  some  such 

thing, 
Soit  of  pearl  bracelet  I  fhould  think  it. 

Fauft.     That's  well !     I  always  like  to  bear 
Some  present  when  I  visit  my  fair. 

Meph'iftopheles.      You  fhould  not  murmur  if  your 
fate  is. 
To  have  a  bit  of  pleasure  gratis. 
Now,  as  the  stars  fill  heaven  with  their  bright  throng. 
List  a  fine  piece,  artistic  purely  : 
I  sing  her  here  a  moral  song. 
To  make  a  fool  of  her  more  surely. 

\Sings  to  the  guitar.']^ 

What  dost  thou  here, 

Katrina  dear. 

At  daybreak  drear. 

Before  thy  lover's  chamber  ? 

Give  o'er,  give  o'er! 

The  ma;d  his  door 

Lets  in,  no  more 

Goes  out  a  maid— remember ! 

Take  heed!  take  heed! 
Once  done,  the  deed 


l82 


FAUST. 


Ye'll  rue  with  speed — 

And  then — good  night — poor  thing — a! 

Though  ne'er  so  fair 
His  speech,  beware, 
Until  you  bear 
His  ring  upon  your  finger. 
Valentine   [comes  forward^       Whom    lur'ft    thou 
here  ?  what  prey  dost  scent  ? 
Rat-catching  ^^  offspring  of  perdition  ! 
To  hell  goes  first  the  instrument ! 
To  hell  then  follows  the  musician ! 

Jldepbiftopheles.    He  *s  broken  the  guitar!  to  music, 

then,  good-bye,  now. 
Valentine,     A  game  of  cracking  (kulls  we'll  try 

now! 
JUcphlftopheles  [to  Faujl'].       Never  you    flinch.  Sir 
Dodor!     Brifk! 
Mind  every  word  I  say — be  wary ! 
Stand  close  by  me,  out  with  your  whifk! 
Thruft  home  upon  the  churl !     Pll  parry. 
Valentine.      Then  parry  that ! 
Mephlftopheles.     Be  sure.      Why  not  ? 
Valentine,     And  that! 
Mephlftopheles,     With  ease ! 
Valentine.      The  devil's  aid  he's  got ! 
But  what  is  this  ?     My  hand's  already  lame. 
Mephlftopheles  [to  FauJl],     Thruft  home! 
Valentine  [/alls].      O  woe! 


FAUST. 


183 


Mephlftopheles,     Now  is  the  lubber  tame  I 
But  come !    We  mufl  be  off.     I  hear  a  clatter; 

And  cries  of  murder,  too,  that  faft  increase. 
I'm  an  old  hand  to  manage  the  police, 
But  then  the  penal  court's  another  matter. 

Martha,     Com.e  out !     Come  out ! 

Margery  [at  the  wlndcw'].      Bring  on  a  light! 

Martha  [as  above'].  They  swear  and  scuffle,  scream 
and  fight. 

People.     There's  one,  has  got  *s  death-blow ! 

Martha  [coming  out\     Where  are  the  murderers, 
have  they  flown  ? 

Margery  [coming  out].     Who's  lying  here  ? 

People.     Thy  mother's  son. 

Margery,     Almighty  God!     What  woe! 

Valentine.      I'm  dying  !   that  is  quickly  said. 
And  even  quicklier  done. 
Women!     Why  howl,  as  if  half-dead? 
Come,  hear  me,  every  one ! 

[All  gather  round  bim.'\ 
My  Margery,  look !     Young  art  thou  ftill, 
But  manageft  thy  matters  ill, 
Haft  not  learned  out  yet  quite. 
I  say  in  confidence — think  it  o'er ; 
Thou  art  juft  once  for  all  a  whore  ; 
Wliy,  be  one,  then,  outright. 

Margery.     My  brother !     God !     What  words  to 
me  I 


1 84 


FAUST. 


Valentine.      In  this  game  let  our  Lord  God  be! 
That  which  is  done,  alas !  is  done. 
And  every  thing  its  course  will  run. 
With  one  you  secretly  begin, 
Presently  more  of  them  come  in, 
And  when  a  dozen  fhare  in  thee, 
Thou  art  the  whole  town's  property. 

When  fhame  is  born  to  this  world  of  sorrow, 
The  birth  is  carefully  hid  from  sight. 
And  the  myfterious  veil  of  night 
To  cover  her  head  they  borrow ; 
Yes,  they  would  gladly  ftifle  the  wearer ; 
But  as  fhe  grows  and  holds  herself  high, 
She  walks  uncovered  in  day's  broad  eye, 
Though  fhe  has  not  become  a  whit  fairer. 
The  uglier  her  face  to  sight. 
The  more  fhe  courts  the  noonday  light. 

Already  I  the  time  can  see 
When  all  good  souls  shall  fhrink  from  thee. 
Thou  proflitute,  when  thou  go'ft  by  them. 
As  if  a  tainted  corpse  were  nigh  them. 
Thy  heart  within  thy  breafl  fhall  quake  then, 

V^hen  they  look  thee  in  the  face. 

halt  wear  no  gold  chain  more  on  thy  neck  then! 

lult  fland  no  more  in  the  holy  place ! 

o  pleasure  in  point-lace  collars  take  then. 


FAUST. 


lis 


Nor  for  the  dance  thy  person  deck  then ! 
But  into  some  dark  corner  gliding, 
'Mong  beggars  and  cripples  wilt  be  hiding  ; 
And  even  ihould  God  thy  sin  forgive. 
Wilt  be  cursM  on  earth  while  thou  fhalt  live! 

Martha.     Your  soul  to  the   mercy  of  God  sur- 
render I 
Will  you  add  to  your  load  the  sin  of  flander  ? 

Valentine.     Could  I  get  at  thy  dried-up  frame, 
Vile  bawd,  so  lofl  to  all  sense  of  fhame ! 
Then  might  I  hope,  e'en  this  side  Heaven, 
Richly  to  find  my  sins  forgiven. 

Margery.     My  brother  I     This  is  hell  to  me ! 

Valentine.      I  tell  thee,  let  these  weak  tears  be! 

When  thy  lafl  hold  of  honor  broke, 

Thou  gav'fl  my  heart  the  heaviefl  flroke. 

I'm  going  home  now  through  the  grave 

To  God,  a  soldier  and  a  brave. 

IDles 


i86 


FAUST. 


CATHEDRAL. 
Service,  Organ,  and  Singing. 

[Margery  amidst  a  crotvd  of  people.     Evil  Spirit  behind 

Margery.] 

Evil  Spirit.       How   different  was    it  with   thee, 
Margy, 
When,  innocent  and  artless, 
Thou  cam'ft  here  to  the  altar. 
From  the  well-thumbed  little  prayer-book. 
Petitions  lisping, 
Half  full  of  child's  play, 
Halffull  of  Heaven! 
Margy ! 

Where  are  thy  thoughts  ? 
What  crime  is  buried 
Deep  within  thy  heart  ? 
Prayeft  thou  haply  for  thy  mother,  who 
Slept  over  into  long,  long  pain,  on  thy  account  ? 
Whose  blood  upon  thy  threfhold  lies  ? 
—And  ftirs  there  not  already 
Beneath  thy  heart  a  life 
Tormenting  itself  and  thee 
With  bodings  of  its  coming  hour? 

Margery.     Woe !     Woe ! 
Could  I  rid  me  of  the  thoughts. 

Still  through  my  brain  backward  and  forward  flitting, 
Againft  my  will ! 


FAUST.  187 

Chorus.     Dies  irae,  dies  ilia 
Solvct  saeclum  in  favilla. 

[^Organ  plays."^ 

Evil  Spirit.     Wrath  smites  thee ! 
Hark  I  the  trumpet  sounds  ! 
The  graves  are  trembling! 
And  thy  heart,  • 

Made  o'er  again 
For  fiery  torments. 
Waking  from  its  afhes 
Starts  up! 

Margery.     Would  I  were  hence! 
I  feel  as  if  the  organ's  peal 
My  breath  were  ftifling. 
The  choral  chant 
My  heart  were  melting. 

Chorus.     Judex  ergo  cum  sedcbit, 
Quidquid  latet  apparebit. 
Nil  inultum  remanebit. 

Margery.     How  cramped  it  feels ! 
The  walls  and  pillars 
Imprison  me! 
And  the  arches 
Crufh  me  ! — Air ! 

Evil  Spirit.     What !  hide  thee  I  sin  and  fhame 
Will  not  be  hidden ! 
Air  ?  Light  ? 
Woe's  thee! 


i88 


FAUST. 


Chorus.      Quid  sum  miser  tunc  didlurus? 
Quern  patronum  rogaturus  ? 
Cum  vix  juftus  sit  securus. 

Evil  Spirit.     They  turn  their  faces, 
The  glorified,  from  thee. 
To  take  thy  hand,  the  pure  ones 
Sliudder  with  horror. 
Woe! 

Chorus,     Quid  sum  miser  tunc  didurus  ? 

Margery,     Neighbor  I  your  phial  I — 

[She  swoons. 


FAUST. 


189 


WALPURGIS    NIGHT. 


32 


Harz  Mountains. 
District  of  Schirke  and  Elend. 

Faust.     Mephistopheles. 

Mephiftopheles.     Wouldft  thou  not  like  a  broom- 
flick,  now,  to  ride  on  ? 
At  this  rate  we  are,  ftill,  a  long  way  ofF; 
rd  rather  have  a  good  tough  goat,  by  half. 
Than  the  bed  legs  a  man  e'er  set  his  pride  on. 

Fauft.     So  long  as  I've  a  pair  of  good  frefh  legs 
to  ftride  on. 
Enough  for  me  this  knotty  flafF. 
What  use  of  fhortening  the  way ! 
Following  the  valley's  labyrinthine  winding. 
Then  up  this  rock  a  pathway  finding. 
From  which  the  spring  leaps  down  in  bubbling  play, 
That  is  what  spices  such  a  walk,  I  say ! 
Spring  through  the  birch-tree's  veins  is  flowing. 
The  very  pine  is  feeling  it ; 
Should  not  its  influence  set  our  limbs  a-glowing  ? 

Mephiftopheles.      I  do  not  feel  it,  not  a  bit ! 
My  wintry  blood  runs  very  flowly  ; 
I  wifh  my  path  were  filled  with  froft  and  snow. 
The  moon's  imperfe6l  difk,  how  melancholy 
It  rises  there  with  red,  belated  glow, 
And  fhines  so  badly,  turn  where'er  one  can  turn, 


I  go  FAUST. 

At  every  flep  he  hits  a  rock  or  tree! 
With  leave  I'll  beg  a  Jack-o'lanternl 
I  see  one  yonder  burning  merrily. 
Heigh,  there  !  my  friend !     May  I  thy  aid  desire  ? 
Why  wafte  at  such  a  rate  thy  fire  ? 
Come,  light  us  up  yon  path,  good  fellow,  pray  ! 
J ack-o  lantern.     Out  of  respea,  I  hope  1  fhall  be 
able 
To  rein  a  nature  quite  unftable ; 
We  usually  take  a  zigzag  way. 

Mephiftopheles.     Heigh!   heigh  I    He  thinks  man's 
crooked  course  to  travel. 
Go  ftraight  ahead,  or,  by  the  devil, 
rU  blow  your  flickering  life  out  with  a  puff. 

Jack-o" lantern.    You're  mafler  of  the  house,  that's 
plain  enough, 
So  rU  comply  with  your  desire. 
But  see  !   The  mountain's  magic-mad  to-night. 
And  if  your  guide's  to  be  a  Jack-o'lantern's  light. 
Stria  reditude  you'll  scarce  require. 

Faust,  Mepkistopheles,  Jack-o'Lantern,/«  alternate  song. 
Spheres  of  magic,  dream,  and  vision. 
Now,  it  seems,  are  opening  o'er  us. 
For  thy  credit,  use  precision  ! 
Let  the  way  be  plain  before  us 
Through  the  lengthening  desert  regions. 

See  how  trees  on  trees,  in  legions. 
Hurrying  by  us,  change  their  places. 


FAUST. 


191 


And  the  bowing  crags  make  faces, 
And  the  rocks,  long  noses  fhowing. 
Hear  them  snoring,  hear  them  blowing  !  ^3 
Down  through  ftones,  through  mosses  flow- 


ing, 


See  the  brook  and  brooklet  springing. 
Hear  I  ruflling?  hear  I  singing? 
Love-plaints,  sweet  and  melancholy. 
Voices  of  those  days  so  holy  ? 
All  our  loving,  longing,  yearning  ? 

Echo,  like  a  llrain  returning 
From  the  olden  times,  is  ringing. 

Uhul  Schuhu!     Tu-whit  I  Tu-whit! 
Are  the  jay,  and  owl,  and  pewit 
All  awake  and  loudly  calling  ? 
What  goes  through  the  bufhes  yonder? 
Can  it  be  the  Salamander — 
Belly  thick  and  legs  a-sprawling  ? 
Roots  and  fibres,  snake-like,  crawling, 

Out  from  rocky,  sandy  places, 
Wheresoe'er  we  turn  our  faces. 
Stretch  enormous  fingers  round  us. 
Here  to  catch  us,  there  confound  us  ; 
Thick,  black  knars  to  life  are  flarting, 
Polypusses'-feelers  darting 
At  the  traveller.      Field-mice,  swarming. 
Thousand-colored  armies  forming. 
Scamper  on  through  moss  and  heather! 


f* 


192 


FAUST. 


FAUST. 


193 


And  the  glow-worms,  in  the  darkling, 
With  their  crowded  escort  sparkling. 
Would  confound  us  altogether. 

But  to  guess  I'm  vainly  trying — 
Are  we  flopping?  are  we  hieing? 
Round  and  round  us  all  seems  flying, 
Rocks  and  trees,  that  make  grimaces, 
And  the  mift-lights  of  the  places 
Ever  swelling,  multiplying. 
Mcphiftopheles.   Here's  my  coat-tail— tightly  thumb 

it! 
We  have  reached  a  middle  summit. 
Whence  one  flares  to  see  how  fhines 
Mammon  in  the  mountain-mines. 

FauJ}.     How  ftrangely  through  the  dim  recesses 
A  dreary  dawning  seems  to  glow ! 
And  even  down  the  deep  abysses 
Its  melancholy  quiverings  throw ! 
Here  smoke  is  boiling,  mifl  exhaling  j 
Here  from  a  vapory  veil  it  gleams. 
Then,  a  fine  thread  of  light,  goes  trailing. 
Then  gufhes  up  in  fiery  flreams. 
The  valley,  here,  you  see  it  follow. 
One  mighty  flood,  with  hundred  rills. 
And  here,  pent  up  in  some  deep  hollow. 
It  breaks  on  all  sides  down  the  hills. 
Here,  spark-fhowers,  darting  up  before  us, 
Like  golden  sand-clouds  rise  and  fall. 


( 


But  yonder  see  how  blazes  o'er  us. 
All  up  and  down,  the  rocky  wall  I 

Mephiftopheles.      Has  not  Sir  Mammon  gloriously 
lio-hted 
His  palace  for  this  feflive  night? 
Count  thyself  lucky  for  the  sight : 
I  catch  e'en  now  a  glimpse  of  noisy  gueds  Invited. 

Fauft.     How  the  mad  tempefl^*  sweeps  the  air! 
On  cheek  and  neck  the  wind-gufls  how  they  flout  me. 

Mephiftopheles.     Mufl:  seize  the  rock's  old  ribs  and 

hold  on  floutly ! 
Else  will  they  hurl  thee  down  the  dark  abysses  there. 
A  mifl:-rain  thickens  the  gloom. 
Hark,  how  the  fjrefls  crafh  and  boom  I 
Out  fly  the  owls  in  dread  and  wonder; 
Splitting  their  columns  asunder. 
Hear  it,  the  evergreen  palaces  fhaking ! 
Boughs  are  twifling  and  breaking ! 
Of  flems  what  a  grinding  and  moaning  ! 
Of  roots  what  a  creaking  and  groaning! 
In  frightful  confusion,  headlong  tumbling. 
They  fall,  with  a  sound  of  thunder  rumbling. 
And,  through  the  wreck-piled  ravines  and  abvsses, 
Tile  temped  howls  and  hisses. 
Hcarfl  thou  voices  high  up  o'er  us  ? 
Close  around  us — far  before  us  ? 
Through  the  mountain,  all  along, 
Swells  a  torrent  of  magic  song. 

13 


# 


194 


FAUST. 


Witches   {In  chorus"].      The    witches    go    to    the 
Brocken's  top, 
The  ftubble  is  yellow,  and  green  the  crop. 
They  gather  there  at  the  well-known  call, 
Sir  Urian^  sits  at  the  head  of  all. 
Then  on  we  go  o'er  ftone  and  ftock  : 
The  witch,  fhe — and — the  buck. 
Foice.      Old  Baubo  comes  along,  I  vow! 
She  rides  upon  a  farrow-sow. 

Chorus.     Then  honor  to  whom  honor's  due ! 
Ma'am  Baubo  ahead !  and  lead  the  crew  ! 
A  good  fat  sow,  and  ma'am  on  her  back. 
Then  follow  the  witches  all  in  a  pack. 
Voice.     Which  way  didfl  thou  come? 
Voice.  By  the  Ilsenftein ! 

Peeped  into  an  owl's  neft,  mother  of  mine  I 
What  a  pair  of  eyes  ! 

Voice.     To  hell  with  your  flurry  ! 
Why  ride  in  such  hurry  ! 

Voice.      The  hag  be  confounded ! 

My  fkin  fhe  has  wounded ! 

IVitches  {chorus].      The  way  is  broad,  the  wa^  is 
long, 
What  means  this  noisy,  crazy  throng? 
The  broom  it  scratches,  the  fork  it  flicks, 
The  child  is  ftifled,  the  mother  breaks. 
IVizards    [semi-chorus].       Like    housed-up    snails 
we're  creeping  on, 


FAUST. 


195 


The  women  all  ahead  are  gone. 
When  to  the  Bad  One's  house  we  go. 
She  gains  a  thousand  fteps,  you  know. 

The  other  half.     We  take  it  not  precisely  so ; 
What  file  in  thousand  fleps  can  go, 
Make  all  the  hafle  fhe  ever  can, 
'Tis  done  in  juft  one  leap  by  man. 

Voice  [above].   Come  on,  come  on,  from  Felsensee  1 
Voices  [from  below].     We'd  gladly  join  your  airy 
way. 
For  wafh  and  clean  us  as  much  as  we  will. 
We  always  prove  unfruitful  flill. 

Both   chorusses.      The   wind    is    hufhed,   the   flar 
fhoots  by. 
The  moon  fhe  hides  her  sickly  eye. 
The  whirling,  whizzing  magic-choir 
Darts  forth  ten  thousand  sparks  of  fire. 
Voice  [from  below].     Ho,  there!  whoa,  there! 
Voice  [from  above].      Who  calls  from  the   rock^ 

cleft  below  there? 
Voice  [below].     Take  me  too  !  take  me  too! 
Three  hundred  years  I've  chmbed  to  you, 
Seeking  in  vain  my  mates  to  come  at. 
For  I  can  never  reach  the  summit. 

Both  chorusses.     Can  ride  the  besom,  the  ftick  can 
ride. 
Can  flride  the  pitchfork,  the  goat  can  flride; 
Who  neither  will  ride  to-night,  nor  can, 
Mufl  be  forever  a  ruined  man. 


f 

*< 


196 


FAUST. 


Half-witch  [below'],      I   hobble  on — Pm  out  of 


WHIG 


And  flill  they  leave  me  far  behind! 

To  find  peace  here  in  vain  I  come, 
I  get  no  more  than  I  left  at  home. 

Chorus  of  witches*     The  witch's  salve  can  never 
fail, 
A  rag  will  answer  for  a  sail, 
Any  trough  will  do  for  a  fhip,  that's  tight ; 
He'll  never  fly  who  flies  not  to-night. 
Both  chorusses.     And  when  the  highefl:  peak  we 
round, 

Then  lightly  graze  along  the  ground. 
And  cover  the  heath,  where  eye  can  see. 
With  the  flower  of  witch-errantry. 

[Tljey  alight.] 
Mephiftopheles,   What  squeezing  and  pufhing,  what 
ruftling  and  huftlingi 
What  hissing  and  twirling,  what  chattering  and  buft- 

ling ! 
How  it  Ihines  and  sparkles  and  burns  and  (links! 

A  true  witch-element,  mcthinks  I 

Keep  close  !  or  we  are  parted  in  two  winks. 

Where  art  thou  ? 

Fauft  \jn  the  diftancc].      Here! 

Mephiftopheles.     W  hat !  carried  off  already  ? 
Then  I  muft  use  my  house-right. — Steady! 
Room !      Squire   Voland  ^^  comes.      Sweet  people, 
Clear  the  ground ! 


FAUST. 


197 


Here,  Do^or,  grasp  my  arm !  and,  at  a  single  bound. 

Let  us  escape,  while  yet  'tis  easy  j 

E'en  for  the  like  of  mc  they're  far  too  crazy. 

Seel    yonder,  something  fhines  with   quite   peculiar 

glare. 
And  draws  me  to  those  bulhes  mazy. 
Come!  come !  and  let  us  flip  in  there. 

Faift.     AU-contradiaing  sprite !  To  follov7  thee 
Tm  fated. 
But  I  muft  say,  thy  plan  was  very  bright ! 
We  seek  the  Brocken  here,  on  the  Walpurgis  night. 
Then  hold  ourselves,  when  here,  completely  isolated! 
Mephiftopheles,     What  motley  flames  light  up  the 
heather ! 
A  merry  club  is  met  together, 
In  a  small  group  one's  not  alone. 

Fauft.     I'd  rather  be  up  there,  I  own  ! 
See!  curling  smoke  and  flames  right  blue ! 
To  see  the  Evil  One  they  travel  j 
There  many  a  riddle  to  unravel. 

Mephiftopheles,     And  tie  up  many  another,  too. 
Let  the  great  world  there  rave  and  not. 
We  here  will  house  ourselves  in  quiet. 
The  saying  has  been  long  well  known : 
In  the  great  world  one  makes  a  small  one  of  his  own. 
I  see  young  witches  there  quite  naked  all, 
And  old  ones  who,  more  prudent,  cover. 
For  my  sake  some  flight  things  look  over ; 


198 


FAUST. 


The  fun  is  great,  the  trouble  small. 

I  hear  them  tuning  inftrumentsi     CursM  jangle  ! 

Well!    one   muft   learn   with   such   things   not   to 

wrangle. 
Come  on !   Come  on  !      For  so  It  needs  must  be. 
Thou  fhalt  at  once  be  introduced  by  me, 
And  I  new  thanks  from  thee  be  earnins;. 
That  is  no  scanty  space  j  what  sayfl  thou,  fiend  ? 
Jufl  take  a  look !  thou  scarce  canft  see  the  end. 
There,  in  a  row,  a  hundred  fires  are  burning  j 
They  dance,  chat,  cook,  drink,  love  -,  where  can  be 

found 
Any  thing  better,  now,  the  wide  world  round  ? 

Fauft.      Wilt  thou,  as  things  are  now  in  this  con- 
dition, 

Present  thyself  for  devil,  or  magician  ? 

Mephiftopheles,      I've  been  much  used,  indeed,  to 
going  incognito ; 

But  then,  on  gala-day,  one  will  his  order  fhow. 

No  garter  makes  my  rank  appear. 

But  then  the  cloven  foot  (lands  high  in  honor  here. 

Seed  thou  the  snail  ?  Look  there  !  where  fhe  comes 
creeping  yonder  I 

Had  fhe  already  smelt  the  rat, 

I  fhould  not  very  greatly  wonder. 

Disguise  is  useless  now,  depend  on  that. 

Come,  then  !  we  will  from  fire  to  fire  wander. 

Thou  (halt  the  wooer  be  and  I  the  pander. 


FAUST. 


199 


\To  a  party  'wbo  sit  round  expiring  embers. 1 
Old  gentlemen,  you  scarce  can  hear  the  fiddle . 
You'd  gain  more  praise  from  me,  ensconced  there  in 

the  middle, 
'Mongft  that  young  rousing,  tousing  set. 
One  can,  at  home,  enough  retirement  get. 

Gsncral.     Truft  not  the  people's  fickle  favor! 
However  much  thou  mayfl  for  them  have  done. 
Nations,  as  well  as  women,  ever, 
Worfhip  the  rising,  not  the  setting  sun. 
Minifter.     From  the  right  path  we've  drifted  far 

away. 
The  good  old  paft  my  heart  engages ; 
Those  were  the  real  golden  ages. 
When  such  as  we  held  all  the  sway. 
Parvenu,     We  were  'no  simpletons,  I  trow, 
And  often  did  the  thing  we  fhould  not  i 
But  all  is  turning  topsy-turvy  now, 
And  if  we  tried  to  flem  the  wave,  we  could  not. 
Author,     Who  on  the  whole  will  read  a  work  to- 
day. 
Of  moderate  sense,  with  any  pleasure  ? 
And  as  regards  the  dear  young  people,  they 
Pert  and  precocious  are  beyond  all  measure. 
Mephiftopheles  [who  all  at  once  appears  very  old]. 
The  race  is  ripened  for  the  judgment  day : 
So  I,  for  the  lafl  time,  climb  the  witch-mountain, 
thinking. 


200 


FAUST. 


And,  as  my  cafk  runs  thick,  I  say, 
The  world,  too,  on  its  lees  is  sinking. 

TVitch-broker.     Good  gentlemen,  don't  hurry  by ! 
The  opportunity's  a  rare  one  I 
My  ftock  Is  an  uncommon  fair  one, 
Please  give  it  an  attentive  eye. 
There's  nothing  in  my  fhop,  whatever, 
But  on  the  earth  its  mate  is  found ; 
That  has  not  proved  itself  right  clever 
To  deal  mankind  some  fatal  wound. 
No  dagger  here,  but   blood  has  some  time  ftained 

it; 
No  cup,  that  has  not  held  some  hot  and  poisonous 

juice. 
And  ftung  to  death  the  throat  that  drained  it ; 
No  trinket,  but  did  once  a  maid  seduce  ; 
No  sword,  but  hath  some  tie  of  sacred  honor  riven, 
Or  haply  from  behind  through  focman's  neck  been 
driven. 

Mephlftopheles.     You're  quite  behind  the  times,  I 
tell  you,  Aunty ! 
By-gones  be  by-gones  I  done  is  done ! 
Get  us  up  something  new  and  jaunty! 
For  new  things  now  the  people  run. 

FaiijK      To  keep  my  wits  I  n.ufl:  endeavor! 
Call  this  a  fair!     I  swear,  I  never — ! 

Mephlftopheles,     Upward  the  billowy  mass  is  mov- 
ing; 


f 


FAUST. 


201 


You*re  fhoved  along  and  think,  meanwhile,  you're 
fhoving. 

Fauft.      What  woman's  that  ? 

Mephiftopheles,     Mark  her  attentively. 
That's  Lilith.37 

Fauft.     Who  ? 

Meph'iftopheles.     Aiam's  firfl:  wife  is  ftie. 
Beware  of  her  one  charm,  those  lovely  tresses, 
In  which  fhe  fhines  preeminently  fair. 
When  those  soft  mefhes  once  a  young  man  snare, 
How  hard  'twill  be  to  escape  he  little  guesses. 

Fauft.      There   sit  an   old   one   and   a  young  to- 
gether ; 
They've  fkipped  it  well  along  the  heather ! 

Meph'iftopheles .      No  reft   from    that   till   night   is 
through. 
Another  dance  is  up  ;  come  on  I  let  us  fall  to. 

Faujl   [dancing  with    the  young   one],       A    lovely 
dream  once  came  to  me ; 
In  it  I  saw  an  apple-tree ; 
Two  beauteous  apples  beckoned  there, 
I  climbed  to  pluck  the  fruit  so  fair. 
The  Fair  one.     Apples  you  greatly  seem  to  prize, 
And  did  so  even  in  Paradise. 
I  feel  myself  delighted  much 
That  in  my  garden  I  have  such. 
Mephiftopheles  [with  the  old  hag].    A  dismal  dream 
once  came  to  me  ; 


202 


FAUST. 


In  it  I  saw  a  cloven  tree, 

It  had  a but  ftill, 

I  looked  on  it  with  right  good-will. 
The  Hag.      With  beft  respea:  I  here  salute 

The  noble  knight  of  the  cloven  foot ! 

Let  him  hold  a near, 

If  a he  does  not  fear. 

ProaophantasmiJlP^     What's  this   ye   undertake? 

Confounded  crew  ! 
Have  we  not  giv'n  you  demonftration  ? 
No  spirit  Hands  on  legs  in  all  creation. 
And  here  you  dance  juft  as  we  mortals  do! 

The  Fair  one  [dancing].      What  docs  that  fellow 

at  our  ball  ? 
Faujt  [dancing].     Eh  !  he  muft  have   a  hand  in 

all. 
What  others  dance  that  he  appraises. 
Unless  each  ftep  he  criticizes, 
The  ftep  as  good  as  no  ftep  he  will  call. 
But  when  we  move  ahead,  that  plagues  him  more 

than  all. 
If  in  a  circle  you  would  ftill  keep  turning, 
As  he  himself  in  his  old  mill  goes  round. 
He  would  be  sure  to  call  that  sound! 
And  moft  so,  if  you  went  by  his  superior  learning. 
ProSfophantasmiJ}.     What,  and  you  ftill  are  here! 
Unheard  off  obftinates ! 
Begone !    WeVe  cleared  it  up  I    You  ftiallow  patea ' 


FAUST. 


203 


The  devilifti  pack  from  rules  deliverance  boafts. 
We've  grown  so  wise,  and  Tegel^^  ftiH  sees  ghofts. 
How  long  I've  toiled  to  sweep  these  cobwebs  from 

the  brain. 
And  yet — unheard  of  folly  !  all  in  vain. 

The  Fair  one.     And  yet  on  us  the  ftupid  bore  ftill 
tries  it! 

PronophantasmiJ}.     I  tell  you  spirits,  to  the  face, 
I  give  to  spirit-tyranny  no  place, 
My  spirit  cannot  exercise  it. 

[Thsy  dance  on.] 
I  can't  succeed  to-day,  I  knov/  it ; 
Still,  there's  the  journey,  which  I  like  to  make. 
And  hope,  before  the  final  ftep  I  take. 
To  rid  the  world  of  devil  and  of  poet. 

MephiftopheUs.      You'll  see  him  ftiortly  sit  into  a 
puddle. 
In  that  way  his  heart  is  reassured  ; 
When  on  his  rump  the  leeches  well  fliall  fuddle. 
Of  spirits  and  of  spirit  he'll  be  cured. 

[To  Faust,  ivho  has  left  the  dance] 
Why  let  the  lovely  girl  flip  through  thy  fingers. 
Who  to  thy  dance  so  sweetly  sang  ? 

Fauft.     Ah,  right  amidft  her  singing,  sprang 
A  wee  red  mouse  from  her   mouth   and   made   me 
cower. 
Mephiftophcles,     That's  nothing  wrong!     You're 
in  a  daiary  way ; 


204 


FAUST. 


FAUST. 


205 


Enough,  the  mouse  at  leaft  wan*t  gray. 

Who  minds  such  thing  in  happy  amorous  hour  ? 

Fauft.     Then  saw  I — 

Mephiftopheles.     What  ? 

Fauft.     Mephifto,  seeft  thou  not 
Yon   pale,   fair  child   afar,  who   ftands   so   sad  and 

lonely, 
And  moves  so  flowly  from  the  spot, 
Her  feet  seem  locked,  and  fhe  drags  them  only. 
I  muft  confess,  fhe  seems  to  me 
To  look  like  my  own  good  Margery. 

Mephiftopheles.     Leave  that  alone !     The  sight  no 
health  can  bring. 
It  is  a  magic  fliape,  an  idol,  no  live  thing. 
To  meet  it  never  can  be  good ! 
Its  haggard  look  congeals  a  mortal's  blood, 
And  almoft  turns  him  into  ftonc  j 
The  flory  of  Medusa  thou  haft  known. 

Fauft.     Yes,  'tis  a  dead  one's  eyes  that  ftare  upon 
me. 
Eyes  that  no  loving  hand  e'er  closed  ; 
That  is  the  angel  form  of  her  who  won  me, 
'I'is  the  dear  breaft  on  which  I  once  reposed. 

Mephiftopheles.     'Tis  sorcery  all,  thou  fool,  misled 
by  passion's  dreams ! 
For  fhe  to  every  one  his  own  love  seems. 

Fauft.       What  bliss!    what   woe!       Methinks   I 
never 


\ 


My  sight  from  that  sweet  form  can  sever. 
Secft  thou,  not  thicker  than  a  knife-blade's  back, 
A  small  red  ribbon,  fitting  sweetly 
The  lovely  neck  it  clasps  so  neatly  ? 

Mephiftopheles.      I  see  the  ftreak  around  her  neck. 
Her  head  beneath  her  arm,  you'll  next  behold  her; 
Perseus  has  lopped  it  from  her  fhoulder, — 
But  let  thy  crazy  passion  reft  I 
Come,  climb  with  me  yon  hillock's  breaft. 
Was  e'er  the  Prater  ^°  merrier  then  ? 
And  if  no  sorcerer's  charm  is  o'er  me. 
That  is  a  theatre  before  me. 
What's  doing  there  ? 

Servibilis.     They'll  ftraight  begin  again. 
A  bran-new  piece,  the  very  laft  of  seven  ; 
To  have  so  much,  the  fashion  here  thinks  fit. 
By  Dilettantes  it  is  given  j 
*Twas  by  a  Dilettante  writ. 
Excuse  me,  sirs,  I  go  to  greet  you  j 
I  am  the  curtain-raising  Dilettant. 

Mephiftopheles.      When  I    upon    the   Blocksberg 
meet  you, 
That  I  approve ;  for  there's  your  place,  I  grant. 


206 


FAUST. 


FAUST. 


207 


walfurgis-night's    dream,  or   oeeron    and 
titania's  golden  nuptials. 

Intermezz.Q. 

Theatre  manager.     Here,  for  once,  we  reft,  to-day, 
Heirs  of  Mieding's  *'  glorj'-. 
All  the  scenery  we  display — 
Damp  vale  and  mountain  hoary  ! 

Herald,     To  make  the  wedding  a  golden  one, 
Muft  ^\hy  years  expire  ; 
But  when  once  the  ftrife  is  done, 
I  prize  the  gold  the  higher. 

Oberon.      Spirits,  if  my  good  ye  mean, 
Now  let  all  wrongs  be  righted  ; 
For  to-day  your  king  and  queen 
Are  o-nce  again  united. 

Puck.     Once  let  Puck  coming  whirling  round, 
And  set  his  foot  to  whificing, 
Hundreds  with  him  throng  the  ground. 
Frolicking  and  frifking. 

Ariel,     Ariel  av/akes  the  song 
With  many  a  heavenly  measure ; 
P'ools  not  few  he  draws  alons:. 
But  fair  ones  hear  with  pleasure. 

Oberon.     Spouses  who  your  feuds  would  smother, 
Take  from  us  a  moral ! 


Two  who  wish  to  love  each  other. 
Need  only  firft  to  quarrel. 

Titania.     If  she  pouts  and  he  looks  grim. 
Take  them  both  together. 
To  the  north  pole  carry  him, 
And  ofFwith  her  to  t'other. 

Orchestra  Tutt'i. 

Fortissimo.     Fly-snouts  and  gnats'-noses,  these. 
Ana  kin  in  all  conditions, 

Grass-hid  crickets,  frogs  in  trees, 
We  take  for  our  musicians  ! 

Solo,     See,  the  Bagpipe  comes!  fall  back! 
Soap-bubble's  name  he  owneth. 

How  the  Schnecke-Jchnicke-fchnack 
Through  his  snub-nose  droneth  ! 

Spirit  that  is jujl  Jhaping  itself.    Spider- foot,  toad*s- 
belly,  too. 
Give  the  child,  and  winglet ! 
*Tis  no  animalcule,  true, 
But  a  poetic  thinglet. 

A  pair  of  lovers.     Little  ftep  and  lofty  bound 
Through  honey-dew  and  flowers  j 
Well  thou  trippeft  o'er  the  ground, 
But  soarft  not  o'er  the  bowers. 

Curious    traveller.       This    muft    be    masquerade! 
How  odd! 
My  \txy  eyes  believe  I  ? 
Oberon,  the  beauteous  God 
Here,  to-night  perccfivt  1 1 


208 


FAUST. 


Orthodox.    Neither  claws,  nor  tail  I  see ! 

And  yet,  without  a  cavil, 

Juft  as  "  the  Gods  of  Greece"  *2  were,  he 

Mufl  also  be  a  devil. 

Northern  artijl.     What  here  I  catch  is,  to  be  sure, 
But  fketchy  recreation  ; 
And  yet  for  my  Italian  tour 
*Tis  timely  preparation. 

PuriJ}.     Bad  luck  has  brought  me  here,  I  see ! 
The  rioting  grows  louder. 

And  of  the  whole  witch  company, 
1  here  are  but  two,  wear  powder. 

Toung  witch.     Powder  becomes,  like  petticoat, 
Your  little,  gray  old  woman  : 
Naked  I  sit  upon  my  goat, 
And  fliow  the  untrimmed  human. 

Matron.      To  ftand  here  jawing  ^  with  you,  we 
Too  much  good-breeding  cherifli ; 
But  young  and  tender  though  you  be, 

I  hope  you'll  rot  and  perifh. 

Leader  of  the  music.      Fly-snouts   and   gnat-noses, 
please. 
Swarm  not  so  round  the  naked  ! 
Grass-hid  crickets,  frogs  in  trees. 
Keep  time  and  don't  forsake  it ! 

IVeathercQck  [towards  one  side].     Find  better  com- 
pany, who  can  ! 

Here,  brides  attended  duly  I 


FAUST. 


209 


There,  bachelors,  ranged  man  by  man, 
Moft  hopeful  people  truly  ! 

JVcathercock  {towards  the  other  side\       And  if  the 
ground  don't  open  ftraight, 
The  crazy  crew  to  swallow, 
YouMl  see  me,  at  a  furious  rate. 
Jump  down  to  hell's  black  hollow. 

Xcnia^^     We  are  here  as  inse£ls,  ah ! 
Small,  fliarp  nippers  wielding, 
Satan,  as  our  cher  papa^ 
Worthy  honor  yielding. 

Hennings,     See  how  naively,  there,  the  throng 
Among  themselves  are  jefting. 
You'll  he^r  them,  Pve  no  doubt,  ere  long, 
Their  good  kind  hearts  protefting. 

Musagetes.       Apollo  in  this  witches*  group 
Himself  right  gladly  loses  ; 
For  truly  I  could  lead  this  troop 
Much  easier  than  the  muses. 

Ci-devant  genius  cf  the  age.     Right  company  will 
raise  man  up. 
Come,  grasp  my  fkirt.  Lord  bless  us  ! 
The  Blocksberg  has  a  good  broad  top. 
Like  Germany's  Parnassus. 

Curious  traveller.     Tell  me  who  is  that  stiff  man  ? 
With  what  stiff  step  he  travels  ! 
He  noses  out  whatever  he  can. 
*'  He  scents  the  Jesuit  devils." 

14 


210 


FAUST. 


Crane,     In  clear,  and  muddy  water,  too, 

The  long-billed  gentleman  fifhes  j 
Our  pious  gentlemen  we  view 
Fin^crin^  in  devils'  difhes. 

Ch7^  of  this  world.     Yes,  with  the  pious  ones,  'tis 
clear, 
"All's  grist  that  comes  to  their  mill  i  " 
They  build  their  tabernacles  here, 
On  Blocksberg,  as  on  Carmel. 

Dancer,     Hark !  a  new  choir  salutes  my  ear ! 

I  hear  a  distant  drumming. 

"  Be  not  disturbed!  'mong  reeds  you  hear 

The  one-toned  bitterns  bumming." 

Dancing-mafter.      How  each  his  legs  kicks  up  and 
flings. 
Pulls  foot  as  best  he*s  able! 
The  clumsy  hops,  the  crooked  springs, 
*Tis  quite  disreputable! 

Fiddler.     The  scurvy  pack,  they  hate,  »tis  clear, 
Like  cats  and  dogs,  each  other. 
Like  Orpheus'  lute,  the  bagpipe  here 
Binds  beast  to  beast  as  brother. 

Dogmatift.     You'll  not  scream  down  my  reason, 
though. 
By  criticism's  cavils. 
The  devil's  something,  that  I  know. 
Else  how  could  there  be  devils  ? 

Idealift.     Ah,  phantasy,  for  once  thy  sway 


FAUST. 


2It 


' 


Is  guilty  of  high  treason. 

If  all  I  see  is  I,  to-day, 

*Tis  plain  I've  lost  my  reason. 

Real'ijt.     To  me,  of  all  life's  woes  and  plagues, 
Substance  is  most  provoking, 
For  the  first  time  I  feel  my  legs 
Beneath  me  almost  rocking. 

Supernaturalift.     I'm  overjoyed  at  being  here, 
And  even  among  these  rude  ones  j 
For  if  bad  spirits  are,  'tis  clear, 
There  also  must  be  good  ones. 

Skeptic.     Where'er  they  spy  the  flame  they  roam, 
And  think  rich  stores  to  rifle. 
Here  such  as  I  are  quite  at  home. 
For  Zweifel  rhymes  with  TeufeL^ 

Leader  of  the  music.     Grass-hid  cricket,  frogs  in 

trees, 
You  cursed  dilettanti  ! 
Fly-snouts  and  gnats'-noses,  peace! 
Musicians  you,  right  jaunty! 

The  Clever  ones.     Sans-souci  we  call  this  band 
Of  merry  ones  that  fkip  it ; 
Unable  on  our  feet  to  stand, 
Upon  our  heads  we  trip  it. 

The  Bunglers.     Time  was,  we  caught  our  tit-bits, 

too, 
God  help  us  now!  that's  done  with! 
We've  danced  our  leathers  entirely  through. 
And  have  only  bare  soles  to  run  with. 


212 


FAUST. 


J ack-o' lanterns,     Frnm  t^^^  a-  .    i 

Whence  w^'      •  '^'"^^^  ^^S  we  come, 

vviiciice  we  ve  just  arisen- 

Soon  in  the  dance  here,  cju/te  at  home, 
^s  gay  young  sparks  we'JJ  glisten 

<y/...//.,./,...     Trailing  from  the  /ky  I  fhot 
Not  a  star  there  missed  me  •  ^  ' 

Crooked  up  in  this  grassy  spot, 
Who  to  my  legs  will  assist  me? 

ne  solid  men.      Room  there  I  room  there  '  dear 
the  ground!  ^^^^ 

Grass-blades  v^^\\  may  fall  so ; 
Spirits  are  we,  but  'tis  found  ' 
^^-^^y  have  plump  limbs  also. 

Puck      Heavy  men  !  do  not,  I  say, 

L-ke  elephants' calves  go  stumping: 
i^et  the  plumpest  one  to-day 

^e  Puck,  the  ever-jumping. 
^nV/.     Ifthe  spirit  gave,  indeed, 
ifnature  gave  you,  pinions, 
f  olJow  up  my  airy  lead 

To  the  rose-dominions  \ 

Orchcjlra   [pianissimo].       Qauzv   n.,•c^       j    n 

cloud  ^  """"^   ^^^^7 

^""  and  wind  have  bani/hed. 
Foh'age  rustles,  reeds  pipe  loud. 
All  the  fliow  has  vanilhed. 


FAUST. 


213 


DREARY    DAY. 


48 


Field. 

Faust.    Mephistopheles. 

Fauft.  In  wretchedness!  In  despair!  Long 
hunted  up  and  down  the  earth,  a  miserable  fugitive, 
and  caught  at  last!  Locked  up  as  a  malefaaor 
in  prison,  to  converse  with  horrible  torments — the 
sweet,  unhappy  creature !  Even  to  this  pass !  even 
to  this ! — Treacherous,  worthless  spirit,  and  this  thou 
hast  hidden  from  me! — Stand  up  here — stand  up! 
Roll  thy  devllifh  eyes  round  grimly  in  thy  head! 
Stand  and  defy  me  with  thy  intolerable  presence! 
Imprisoned!  In  irretrievable  misery!  Given  over 
to  evil  spirits  and  to  the  judgment  of  unfeeling 
humanity,  and  me  meanwhile  thou  lullest  in  insipid 
dissipations,  concealest  from  me  her  growing  anguifh, 
and  leavest  her  without  help  to  perifh  ! 

Mephiftopheks.     She  is  not  the  first ! 

Fauft,  Dog!  abominable  monster!  Change  him, 
thou  Infinite  Spirit!  change  the  worm  back  into  his 
canine  form,  as  he  was  often  pleased  in  the  night  to 
trot  before  me,  to  roll  before  the  feet  of  the  harm- 
less wanderer,  and,  when  he  fell,  to  hang  on  his 
fhoulders.  Change  him  again  into  his  favorite  fhape, 
that  he  may  crawl  before  me  on  his  belly  in  the 


214 


FAUST. 


sand,  and  that  1  may  tread  him  under  foot,  the  repro- 
bate!—Not  the  first!  Misery!  Misery!  inconceiv- 
able by  any  human  soul !  that  more  than  one  creature 
ever  sank  into  the  depth  of  this  wretchedness,  that 
the  first  in  its  writhing  death-agony  did  not  atone 
for  the  guilt  of  all  the  rest  before  the  eyes  of  the 
eternally  Forgiving!  My  very  marrow  and  life  are 
consumed  by  the  misery  of  this  single  one;  thou 
grimiest  away  composedly  at  the  fate  of  thousands  ! 

Meph'iftophehs,  Here  we  are  again  at  our  wits' 
ends  already,  where  the  thread  of  sense,  with  you 
mortals,  snaps  fhort.  Why  make  a  partnerfhip  with 
US,  if  thou  canst  not  carry  it  through  ?  Wilt  fly,  and 
art  not  proof  against  dizziness  ?  Did  we  thrust  our- 
selves on  thee,  or  thou  on  us  ? 

Fauft.      Gnafh   not   so   thy  greedy  teeth  against 
me!      It  disgusts   me  !— Great  and  glorious   spirit, 
thou  that  deignedst  to  appear  to  me,  who  knowest 
my  heart   and   soul,   why  yoke   me  to   this   fhame- 
fellow,  who  feeds  on  mischief  and  feasts  on  ruin  ? 
Mephlftopheles.      Hast  thou  done  ? 
Faujl,      Rescue    her!       O   woe    be    unto   thee! 
The  most  horrible  curse  on  thee  for  thousands  of 
years ! 

Mephlftopheles.     I  cannot  loose  the  bonds  of  the 
avenger,  nor  open   his   bolts.— Rescue  herl— Who 
war  it  that  plunged  her  into  ruin?     I  or  thou? 
[Faust  looks  mildly  round. 1 


FAUST. 


215 


Grasp'st  thou  after  the  thunder  ?     Well  that  it  was 
not  given  to  you  miserable  mortals !     To  crufh  an 
innocent  respondent,  that  is  a  sort  of  tyrant's-way  of 
getting  room  to  breathe  in  embarrassment. 
Fauft.     Lead  me  to  herl     She  fhall  be  free  I 
Mephlftopheles.    And  the  danger  v/hich  thou  incur- 
rest  ?      Know  that  the  guilt  of  blood  at  thy  hand 
still  lies   upon  the  town.       Over   the   place  of  the 
flain,  avenging  spirits  hover  and  lurk  for  the  return- 
ing murderer. 

Fauft.     That,  too,  from  thee  ?     Murder  and  death 
of  a  world  upon  thee,  monster!     Lead  me  thither,  I 

say,  and  free  her  I 

Mephlftopheles.  I  will  lead  thee,  and  hear  what  I 
can  do  !  Have  I  all  power  in  heaven  and  on  caiih  ? 
I  will  becloud  the  turnkey's  senses  ;  possess  thyself 
of  the  keys,  and  bear  her  out  with  human  hand.  I 
will  watch !  The  magic  horses  {hall  be  ready,  and  I 
will  bear  you  away.  So  much  I  can  do. 
Fauft.     Up  and  away ! 


*»\  ■  ^/j  \V* 


2l6 


FAUST. 


NIGHT.       OPEN    FIELD.. 

Faust.    Mephistopheles. 
Scudding  along  on  black  horses. 

Fauft.    What's  doing,  off  there,  round  the  gallows* 

tree  ?  ^^ 
Mephiftopheles.     Know  not  what  they  are  doing 

and  brewing. 
Fauft.     Up  they  go — down  they  go— wheel  about, 

reel  about, 
Mephiftopheles.      A  witch es'-crew. 
Fauft.     They're  strewing  and  vowing. 
Mephiftopheles,     Pass  on!  Pass  on  ! 


FAUST. 


217 


PRISON. 

Faust  \y^ith  a  hunch  of  keys  and  a  lamp,  before  an  iron  doorl 
A  long  unwonted  chill  comes  o*er  me, 
I  feel  the  whole  great  load  of  human  woe. 
Within  this  clammy  wall  that  frowns  before  me 

Lies  one  whom  blinded  love,  not  guilt,  brought  low! 
Thou  lingerest,  in  hope  to  grow  bolder  ! 
Thou  fearest  again  to  behold  her  ! 
On  !   Thy  fhrinking  flowly  hastens  the  blow ! 
[He  grasps  the  key.     Singing  from  ivithin.] 

My  mother,  the  harlot, 

That  strung  me  up  ! 

My  father,  the  varlet, 

That  ate  me  up  ! 

My  sister  small. 

She  gathered  up  all 

The  bones  that  day, 

And  in  a  cool  place  did  lay  ; 

Then  I  woke,  a  sweet  bird,  at  a  magic  call ; 

Fly  away,  fly  away  ! 
Fauff  [unlocking].     She  little  dreams,  her  lover  is 
so  near. 
The  clanking  chains,  the  ruftling  ftraw  can  hear. 

[He  enters.] 

Margaret  [burying  herself  in  the  bed].   Woe!  woe! 
Thev  come.     O  death  of  bitterness  ! 


2l8 


FAUST. 


Fauji  \joftly\    Hufh  I  hufh  !  I  come  to  free  thee  \ 

thou  art  dreaming. 
Margaret  [proftrating  herself  before  him'].  Art  thou 

a  man,  then  feel  for  my  diflress. 
Fauft.     Thou'lt  wake  the  guards  with  thy  loud 
screaming ! 

[f/ip  seizes  the  chains  to  unlock  tbem.'\ 
Margaret  [on  her  knees'].      Headsman,  who's  given 
thee  this  right 
O'er  me,  this  power ! 
Thou  com'ft  for  me  at  dead  of  night ; 
In  pity  spare  me,  one  fhort  hour ! 
Wilt*t  not  be  time  when  Matin  bell  has  rung  ? 

[She  stands  up.] 
Ah,  I  am  yet  so  young,  so  young ! 
And  death  pursuing! 

Fair  was  I  too,  and  that  was  my  undoing. 
My  love  was  near,  far  is  he  now ! 
Torn  is  the  wreath,  the  scattered  flowers  lie  low. 

Take  not  such  violent  hold  of  me  ! 

Spare  me !  what  harm  have  I  done  to  thee  ? 

Let  me  not  in  vain  implore  thee. 

Thou  ne*er  till  now  sawft  her  who  lies  before  thee  I 

Fauft.     O  sorrow  worse  than  death  is  o*er  me  ! 

Margaret.     Now  I  am  wholly  in  thy  power. 
But  firft  Pd  nurse  my  child — do  not  prevent  me. 
I  hugged  it  through  the  black  night  hour ; 
They  took  it  from  me  to  torment  me, 


FAUST. 


219 


And  now  they  say  I  killed  the  pretty  flower. 

I  fhall  never  be  happy  again,  I  know. 

They  sing  vile  songs  at  me  1     'Tis  bad  in  them  to 

do  it ! 
There's  an  old  tale  that  ends  juft  so, 
Who  gave  that  meaning  to  it  ? 

Fauft  [proftrates  himself],     A  lover  at  thy  feet  is 
bending. 
Thy  bonds  of  misery  would  be  rending. 

Margaret  [flings  herself  beside  him].      0   let  US 
kneel,  the  saints  for  aid  invoking  \ 
See !  'neath  the  threftiold  smoking. 
Fire-breathing, 
Hell  is  seething! 
There  prowling. 
And  grim  under  cover, 
Satan  is  howling! 

Fauft  [aloud].     Margery!  Margery! 

Margaret  [Uftening].     That  was  the  voice  of  my 
lover! 

[She  springs  up.      The  chains  fall  off."] 

Where  Is  he  ?  Where  ?     He  calls.     I  hear  him. 
I'm  free!     Who  hinders  ?     I  will  be  near  him. 
ril  fly  to  his  neck!     I'll  hold  him! 
To  my  bosom  I'll  enfold  him ! 

He  flood  on  the  threfhold — called  Margery  plainly! 
Hell's   howling   and   clattering   to   drown   it    sought 
vainly, — 


220 


FAUST. 


Through  the  devilifh,  grim  scofFs,  that  might  turn  one 
to  ftone, 

I  caught  the  sweet,  loving,  enrapturing  tone. 
Fauft.     TisI! 
Margaret.     'Tis  thou  !     O  say  it  once  again . 

[Clasping  again.'] 

'Tis  he  I  'tis  he !     Where  now  is  all  my  pain  ? 

And  where  the  dungeon's  anguifh  ?     Joy-giver! 

'Tis  thou  !     And  come  to  deliver  1 

I  am  delivered! 

Again  before  me  lies  the  ftreet. 

Where  for  the  firft  time  thou  and  I  did  meet. 

And  the  garden-bower. 

Where  we  spent  that  evening  hour. 

Fauft  [trying  to  draw  her  away].      Come!    Come 
with  me ! 

Margaret,  Q  tarry  I 

I  tarry  so  gladly  where  thou  tarrieft. 

[Caressing  him.'] 
Fauft.     Hurry ! 

Unless  thou  hurrieft, 
Bitteriy  we  both  muft  rue  it. 
^  Margaret.     Kiss  me  I     Canft  no  more  do  it  ? 
So  fhort  an  absence,  love,  as  this. 
And  forgot  how  to  kiss  ? 

What  saddens  me  so  as  I  hang  about  thy  neck  ? 
When  once,  in  thy  words,  thy  looks,  such  a  heaven 
of  blisses 


FAUST. 


221 


Came  o'er  me,  I  thought  my  heart  would  break, 
And  it  seemed  as  if  thou  wouldft  smother  me  with 
kisses. 

Kiss  thou  me! 
Else  I  kiss  thee! 

\_She  embraces  bim."] 
Woe !  woe !  thy  lips  are  cold. 
Stone-dumb. 
Where's  thy  love  left  ? 
Oh!  Pm  bereft! 
Who  robbed  me  ? 

[She  turns  from  bim.] 

Fauft.  O  come! 

Take  courage,  my  darling !     Let  us  go ; 
I  clasp  thee  with  unutterable  glow  j 
But  follow  me!     For  this  alone  I  plead! 

Margaret  [turning  to  him].      Is   It,  then,  thou  ? 
And  is  it  thou  indeed  ? 

Fauft.     'Tis  I !     Come,  follow  me  ! 

Margaret,     Thou  break'ft  my  chain. 
And  tak'ft  me  to  thy  breaft  againj 
How  comes  it,  then,  that  thou  art  not  afraid  of  me  ? 
And  doft  thou  know,  my  friend,  who  'tis  thou  set- 
teft  free  ? 

Fauft,     Come !  come  !  The  night  is  on  the  wane. 

Margaret.     Woe!  woe  !     My  mother  I've  flain! 
Have  drowned  the  babe  of  mine ! 
VVas  it  not  sent  to  be  mine  and  thine  ? 


222 


FAUST. 


Thine,  too— 'tis  thou !     Scarce  true  doth  it  seem. 

Give  me  thy  hand!     'Tis  not  a  dream! 

Thy  blessed  hand! — But  ah!  there's  dampness  here! 

Go,  wipe  it  off!     I  fear  , 

There's  blood  thereon. 

Ah  God  !  what  haft  thou  done  I 

Put  up  thy  sword  again  ; 

I  pray  thee,  do! 

Fauft.     The  past  is  past — there  leave  it  then, 
Thou  kill'st  me  too  ! 

Margaret,     No,  thou  must  longer  tarry ! 
I'll  tell  thee  how  each  thou  (halt  bury  j 
The  places  of  sorrow 
Make  ready  to-morrow ; 
Must  give  the  best  place  to  my  mother, 
The  very  next  to  my  brother. 
Me  a  little  aside, 

But  make  not  the  space  too  wide ! 
And  on  my  right  breast  let  the  little  one  lie. 
No  one  else  will  be  fleeping  by  me. 
Once,  to  feel  thy  heart  beat  n"'gh  me. 
Oh,  'twas  a  precious,  a  tender  joy  ! 
But  I  Ihall  have  it  no  more — no,  never  ; 
I  seem  to  be  forcing  myself  on  thee  ever, 
And  thou  repelling  me  freezingly  ; 
And  'tis  thou,  the  same  good  soul,  I  sec. 

Fauft,     If  thou  feelest  'tis  I,  then  come  with  mc 

Margaret,     Out  yonder  ? 


FAUST. 


223 


Fauft.     Into  the  open  air. 
Margaret,    If  the  grave  is  there, 

If  death  is  lurking  j   then  come! 

From  here  to  the  endless  resting-place. 

And  not  another  pace — 

Thou  go'st  e'en  now  ?     O,  Henry,  might  I  too  . 

Fauft,     Thou  canst!     *Tis  but   to  will!     The 
door  stands  open. 

Margaret,    I  dare  not  go  ;  for  me  there's  no  more 

hoping. 
What  use  to  fly  ?     They  lie  in  wait  for  me. 
So  wretched  the  lot  to  go  round  begging. 
With  an  evil  conscience  thy  spirit  plaguing ! 
So  wretched  the  lot,  an  exile  roaming— 
And  then  on  my  heels  they  are  ever  coming ! 

Fauft.     I  ftiall  be  with  thee. 

Margaret,     Make  haste  \  make  haste ! 
No  time  to  waste  ! 
Save  thy  poor  child ! 
Quick !  follow  the  edge 
Of  the  rufhing  rill. 
Over  the  bridge 
And  by  the  mill, 
Then  into  the  woods  beyond 
On  the  left  where  lies  the  plank 
Over  the  pond. 
Seize  hold  of  it  quick ! 
To  rise  'tis  trying. 


2^4 


FAUST. 


It  Struggles  still ! 
Rescue  I  rescue! 

Fauft.     Bethink  thyself,  pray! 
A  single  step  and  thou  art  free ! 

Margaret,     Would   we  were  by  the   mountain. 
See! 

There  sits  my  mother  on  a  stone, 

The  sight  on  my  brain  is  preying ! 

There  sits  my  mother  on  a  stone, 

And  her  head  is  constantly  swaying  ; 
She  beckons  not,  nods  not,  her  head  falls  o*er. 
So  long  she's  been  fleeping,  she'll  wake  no  more. 
She  flept  that  we  might  take  pleasure. 

0  that  was  bliss  without  measure! 

Fauft.       Since    neither   reason   nor  prayer   thou 
hearest ; 

1  must  venture  by  force  to  take  thee,  dearest. 
Margaret,      Let  go!     No  violence  willl  bear ! 

Take  not  such  a  murderous  hold  of  me! 
I  once  did  all  I  could  to  gratify  thee. 

Fauft,     The  day  is  breaking !     Dearest !  dearest ! 

Margaret,      Day  !      Ay,  it   is   day !  the   last  great 
day  breaks  in ! 
My  wedding-day  it  should  have  been  ! 
Tell  no  one  thou  hast  been  with  Margery! 
Alas  for  my  garland !     The  hour's  advancing! 
Retreat  is  in  vain ! 

We  meet  again, 


FAUST. 


225 


But  not  at  the  dancing. 

The  multitude  presses,  no  word  is  spoke. 

Square,  streets,  all  places— 

A  sea  of  faces— 

The  bell  is  tolling,  the  stafF  is  broke. 

How  they  seize  me  and  bind  me! 

They  hurry  me  ofF  to  the  bloody  block."** 

The  blade  that  quivers  behind  me, 

Quivers  at  every  neck  with  convulsive  shock  \ 

Dumb  lies  the  world  as  the  grave  ! 

Fauft.      O  had  I  ne'er  been  born ! 

MephiJIopheles  [appears  without].     Up!  or  thou'rt 
lost!     The  morn 
Flushes  the  fky. 

Idle  delaying!     Praying  and  playing! 
My  horses  are  neighing. 
They  shudder  and  snort  for  the  bound. 

Margaret.  What's  that,  comes  up  from  the  ground  ? 
He!   He!      Avaunt!  that  face! 
What  will  he  in  the  sacred  place  ? 
He  seeks  me  ! 

Fauft,      Thou  shalt  live ! 

Margaret.     Great  God  in  heaven ! 
Unto  thy  judgment  my  soul  have  I  given! 

Mephijiopheles    [to  Fauft\       Come!   come!  or   In 
the  lurch  I  leave  both  her  and  thee ! 

Marga-et,     Thine  am  I,  Father!    Rescue  me! 
Ye  angels,  l.oly  bands,  attend  me  ! 

15 


226 


FAUST. 


And  camp  around  me  to  defend  me  I 
Henry !  I  dread  to  look  on  thee. 

Mephijiopheles.     She*s  judged ! 

Voice  [from  above],     She*s  saved  ! 

Alephiftopheles  [/<?  Fauji\     Come  thou  to  me ! 
[Fanisbes  tvitb  Faust.] 

Foice  [from  within^  dying  away],    Henry !  Henry! 


NOTES. 


I  Dedication.  The  idea  of  Fauft  had  early  entered  into 
Goethe's  mind.  He  probably  began  the  work  when  he  was 
about  twenty  years  old.  It  was  firft  published,  as  a  fragment, 
in  1790,  and  did  not  appear  in  its  present  form  till  1808,  when 
its  author's  age  was  nearly  sixty.  By  the  "forms"  are  meant, 
of  course,  the  shadowy  personages  and  scenes  of  the  drama. 

»  — ♦♦  Thy  messengers" — 

"  He  maketh  the  winds  his  messengers. 
The  flaming  lightnings  his  minifters.'* 

Noyes^s  Psalms,  c.  iv.  4. 

»  "  The  Word  Divine."  In  translating  the  German  "  Wcr- 
dende"  (literally,  the  becoming,  de-oeloping,  or  gro-cving)  by  the 
term  ouor^,  I  mean  the  'word  in  the  largeft  sense :  "  In  the 
beginning  was  the  Word,  &c."  Perhaps  "  nature  "  would  be 
a  pretty  good  rendering,  but  "  word,"  being  derived  from 
«♦  werden,"  and  expressing  philosophically  and  scripturally  the 
going  forth  or  manifeftation  of  mind,  seemed  to  me  as  appro- 
priate a  translation  as  any. 

*  "  The  old  fellow."  The  commentators  do  not  seem  quite 
agreed  whether  "  den  Alten  "  (the  old  one)  is  an  entirely  rever- 
ential phrase  here,  like  the  "  ancient  of  days,"  or  savors  a  little 
of  profane  pleasantry,  like  the  title  "  old  man  "  given  by  boys 
to  their  schoolmafter  or  of  "  the  old  gentleman  "  to  their  father*. 


228 


NOTES. 


Considering  who  the  speaker  is,  I  have  naturally  inclined  to  the 
latter  alternative. 

« "  Noftradamus  '*  (properly  named  Michel  Notre  Dame) 
lived  through  the  firft  half  of  the  sixteenth  century.  He  was 
born  in  the  south  of  France  and  was  of  Jewish  extradion.  As 
physician  and  aftrologer,  he  was  held  in  high  honor  by  the  French 
nobility  and  kings. 

«  The  "  Macrocosm  "  is  the  great  world  of  outward  things, 
in  contraft  with  its  epitome,  the  little  world  in  man,  called  the 
microcosm  (or  world  in  miniature). 

'  "  Famulus  "  seems  to  mean  a  cross  between  a  servant  and 
a  scholar.  The  Dominie  Sampson  called  Wagner,  is  appended 
to  Fauft  for  the  time  somewhat  as  Sancho  is  to  Don  Quixote. 
The  Doaor  Fauft  of  the  legend  has  a  servant  by  that  name, 
who  seems  to  have  been  more  of  a  Sancho,  in  the  sense  given  to 
ihe  word  by  the  old  New  England  mothers  when  upbraiding 
bad  boys  (you  Sanch' !).  Curiously  enough,  Goethe  had  in 
early  life  a  (treacherous)  friend  named  Wagner,  who  plagia- 
rized part  of  Fauft  and  made  a  tragedy  of  it. 

«  "  Mock-heroic  play."     We  have  Schlegel's  authority  for 
thus  rendering  the  phrase  "  Haupt-  und  Staats-Adion,"  (liter- 
ally, **  head  and  State-aaion,")  who  says  that  this  title  was 
given  to  dramas  designed   for  puppets,  when  they   treated   ot 
heroic  and  hiftorical  subjefts. 

»  The  literal  sense  of  this  couplet  in  the  original  is: 

"  Is  he,  in  the  bliss  of  becoming, 
To  creative  joy  near — " 

♦  Werde-Iuft  "  presents  the  same  difficulty  that  we  found  in 
note  3.  This  same  word,  "  Werden,"  is  also  used  by  the  poet 
in  the  introduftory  theatre  scene  (page  7),  where  he  longs  for 
the  time  when  he  himself  was  ripening,  growing,  becoming,  or 
fffrming,  (as   Hayward  renders  it.)      I  agree  with   Hayward, 


NOTES. 


229 


«  the  meaning  probably  is,  that  our  Saviour  enjoys,  in  coming 
to  life  again,"  (I  should  say,  in  being  born  into  the  upper  life,) 
»'  a  happiness  nearly  equal  to  that  of  the  Creator  in  creating.'* 

WThe  Angel-chorusses  in  this  scene  present  the  only  in- 
ftances  in  which  the  translator,  for  the  sake  of  retaining  the  ring 
and  swing  of  the  melody,  has  felt  himself  obliged  to  give  a 
tiansfusion  of  the  spirit  of  the  thought,  inftead  of  its  exaa  form. 

The  literal  meaning  of  the  firft  chorus  is  :  — 

Chrift  is  arisen  ! 
Joy  to  the  Mortal, 
Whom  the  ruinous, 
Creeping,  hereditary 
Infirmities  wound  round. 

Dr.  Hedge  has  come  nearer  than  any  one  to  reconcUing 
meaning  and  melody  thus :  —  , 

"  Chrift  has  arisen  ! 
Joy  to  our  buried  Head  ! 
Whom  the  unmerited. 
Trailing,  inherited 
Woes  did  imprison.'* 

The  present  translator,  without  losing  sight  of  the  faa  that 
"  the  Mortal  "  means  Chrift,  has  taken  the  liberty  (conftrained 
by  rhyme,— which  is  sometimes  more  than  the  rudder  of  verse,) 
of  making  the  congratulation  include  Humanity,  as  incarnated 
in  Chrift,  "  the  second  Adam." 

In  the  closing  Chorus  of  Angels,  the  translator  found  that  he 
could  beft  preserve  the  spirit  of  the  five-fold  rhyme  :  — 

"  Thatig  ihn  preisenden, 
Liebe  beweisenden, 
Bruderlich  speisenden. 


230 


NOTES. 

Predigend  reisenden, 
Wonne  verheissenden," 


by  running  It  into  three  couplets. 

"  The  prose  account  of  the  alchymical  process  is  as  fol. 
low^s  :  — 

*'  There  was  red  mercury,  a  powerfully  afting  body,  united 
with  the  tinaure  of  antimony,  at  a  gentle  heat  of  the  water- 
bath.  Then,  being  exposed  to  the  heat  of  open  fire  in  an 
aludel,  (or  alembic,)  a  sublimate  filled  its  heads  in  succession, 
which,  if  it  appeared  with  various  hues,  was  the  desired  medi- 
cine." 

»^ '*  Salamander,  &c.'*  The  four  represent  the  spirits  of 
the  four  elements,  fire,  water,  air,  and  earth,  which  Fauft  suc- 
cessively conjures,  so  that,  if  the  monfter  belongs  in  any  respedt 
to  this  mundane  sphere,  he  may  be  exorcized.  But  it  turns  out 
that  he  is  beyond  and  beneath  all. 

"  Here,  of  course,  Fauft  makes  the  sign  of  the  cross,  or  holds 
out  a  crucifix. 

"  '*  Fly.God,"  /.  e.  Beelzebub. 

"  The  "  Drudenfuss,"  or  pentagram,  was  a  pentagonal  figure 
composed  of  three  triangles,  thus  : 


*"  Do£lor's  Feaft.  The  inaugural  feaft  given  at  taking  a  de- 
gree. 

^'  "  Blood."  When  at  the  firft  invention  of  printing,  the  art 
was  ascribed  to  the  devil,  the  illuminated  red  ink  parts  were 
said  by  the  people  to  be  done  in  blood. 

"  "  The  Spanish  boot  "  was  an  inftrument  of  torture,  like  the 
Scottish  boot  mentioned  in  Old  Mortality. 


NOTES. 


231 


19  *'  Encheiresin  Naturae."     Literally,  a  handling  of  nature. 

20  Still  a  famous  place  of  public  resort  and  entertainment. 
On  the  wall  are  two  old  paintings  of  Fauft's  carousal  and  his 
ride  out  of  the  door  on  a  calk.  One  is  accompanied  by  the  fol- 
lowing inscription,  being  two  lines  (Hexameter  and  Pentameter) 
broken  into  halves  :  — 

"  Vive,  bibe,  obgregare,  memor 
Faufti  hujus  et  hujus 
Poenae.     Aderat  clauda  haec, 
Aft  erat  ampla  jiradil.      iS^i-'* 

"  Live,  drink,  be  merry,  remembering 
This  Fauft  and  his 
Punishment.     It  came  slowly 
But  was  in  ample  measure." 
2»  Frosch,  Brander,  Sec.     These   names  seem  to  be  chosen 
with  an  eye  to  adaptation,  Frosch  meaning  frog,  and  Brander 
fireship.     "  Frog  "  happens  also  to  be  the  nickname  the  ftudents 
give  to  a  pupil  of  the  gymnasium,  or  school  preparatory  to  the 

university. 

22  Rippach  is  a  village  near  Leipslc,  and  Mr.   Hans  was  a 
fiaitious  personage  about  whom  the  ftudents  used  to  quiz  green- 

horns.  .    . 

23  The  original  means  literally  sea-cat.     Retzsch  says,  it  is 

the  little  ring-tailed  monkey. 

«  One-time-one,  /.  f.  multiplication-table. 

25  "  Hand  and  glove."  The  translator's  coincidence  with 
Miss  Swanwick  here  was  entirely  accidental.  The  German  is 
-  thou  and  thou,"  alluding  to  the  faft  that  intimate  fnends 
among  the  Germans,  like  the  sea  of  Friends,  call  each  other 

thou. 

«  The  following  is  a  literal  translation  of  the  song  referred 

to:  — 


232  NOTES. 

Were  I  a  little  bird. 
Had  I  two  wings  of  mine* 

I'd  fly  to  my  dear; 
But  that  can  never  be, 
So  I  ftay  here. 

Though  I  am  far  from  thee. 
Sleeping  I'm  near  to  thee. 
Talk  with  my  dear  ; 
When  I  awake  again, 
I  am  alone. 

Scarce  is  there  an  hour  in  the  night. 
When  sleep  does  not  take  its  flight. 
And  I  think  of  thee. 
How  many  thousand  times 
Thou  gav'ft  thy  heart  to  me. 

*  Donjon.  The  original  is  Zivinger^  which  Hayward  says 
is  untranslatable.  It  probably  means  an  old  tower,  such  as  is 
often  found  in  the  free  cities,  where,  in  a  dark  passage-way,  a 
lamp  is  sometimes  placed,  and  a  devotional  image  near  it. 

*  It  was  a  superftitious  belief  that  the  presence  of  buried 
treasure  was  indicated  by  a  blue  flame. 

®  Lion-dollars — a  Bohemian  coin,  firft  minted  three  centuries 
ago,  by  Count  Schlick,  from  the  mines  of  Joachim's-Thal. 
The  one  side  bears  a  lion,  the  other  a  full  length  image  of  St. 
John. 

*  An  imitation  of  Ophelia's  song  :  HamUt,  a6l  14,  scene  5. 
**  The  Rat-catcher  was  supposed  to  have  the  art  of  drawing 

rats  after  him  by  his  whiftle,  like  a  sort  of  Orpheus. 

**  Walpurgis  Night.  May-night.  Walpurgis  is  the  female 
taint  who  converted  the  Saxons  to  Chriftianity. — The  Brocken 
or  Blocksberg  is  the  hIgheA  peak  of  the  Harz  mountains,  which 


NOTES. 


233 


comprise  about  1350  square  mlles.-Schirke  and  Elend  are  two 

villages  in  the  neighborhood. 

83  Shelley's  translation  of  this  couplet  is  very  fine:  (    U  St  su 

omnia  !  ")    ^^  ^^^  gjant-snouted  crags,  ho  !  ho  1  ^^ 
How  they  snort  and  how  they  blow !  " 
^  The  original  is  mndsbraut,  (wind's-bride,)  the  word  used 
in  Luther's  Bible  to  translate  Paul's  Euroclydon. 

85  One  of  the  names  of  the  devil  in  Germany. 

86  One  of  the  names  of  Beelzebub. 

Z!  u  The  Talmudifts  say  that  Adam  had  a  wife  called  Lilis 
before  he  married  Eve,  and  of  her  he  begat  nothing  but  devds. 

Burton's  Anatomy  of  Melancholy. 

A  learned  writer  says  that  Lullaby  is  derived  from  "  LiUa, 
abi !  "  "  Begone  Lllleth  I  "  she  having  been  supposed  to  He 
in  wait  for  children  to  kill  them. 

«s  This  name,  derived  from  two  Greek  words  meanmg  rump 
^n^fancy.s...  meant  for  Nicolai  of  Beriin,  a  great  hater  0 
Goethe's  writings,  and  is  explained  by  the  faft  that  the  man  had 
for  a  long  time  a  violent  affeftion  of  the  nerves    and  by  the 
application  he  made  of  leeches  as  a  remedy,  (alluded  to  by 

^'^'t^S''^^^^^^^^^        ^^"^  ^y  ^^'^^"^^  '"  '  '""'"  ^^'''  \''" 

miles  from  Berlin,  whose  inhabitants  were,  in  i799»  ^^^axed  by  a 
ghofl  ftory.  Of  which  the  scene  was  laid  in  the  former  place. 

*"  The  park  in  Vienna. 

4'  He  was  scene-painter  to  the  Weimar  theatre. 

42  A   poem  Of  Schiller's,  which  gave   great  offence  to  the 

religious  people  of  his  day. 

«  A  literal  translation  of  MaulenM^  a  slang-term  m  Yankee 

^""44  Epigrams,  published  from  time  to  time  by  Goethe  and 
'      Schiller  jointly.     Hennings  (whose  name  heads  the  next  quat- 


^34 


NOTES. 


rain)  was  editor  of  the  Musag^t,  (a  title  of  Apollo,  «  leader  of 
the  muses,")  and  also  of  the  Genius  of  the  Age.  The  other 
satirical  allusions  to  classes  of  notabilities  will,  without  difficulty, 
be  guessed  out  by  the  readers. 

«  "  Doubt  is  the  only  rhyme  for  devil,"  in  German. 
«  The  French    translator,  Stapfcr,  assigns  as   the    probable 
reason  why  this  scene  alone,  of  the  whole  drama,  should  have 
been  left  in  prose,  "  that  it  might  not  be  said  that  Fauft  wanted 
any  one  of  the  possible  forms  of  style." 
<'  Literally  the  ra'ven-ftone. 

«  The  blood-seat,  in  allusion   to  the  old  German  cuftom  of 
tying  a  woman,  who  was  to.be  beheaded,  into  a  wooden  chair. 

P.  S.     There  is  a  passage  on  page  84,  the  speech  of  Fauft, 
ending  with  the  lines:  — 

Show  me  the  fruit  that,  ere  It's  plucked,  will  rot. 
And  trees  from  which  new  green  Is  daily  peeping, 

which  seems   to  have  puzzled   or  misled  so  much,  not   only 
English  translators,   but  even  German  critics,  that  the  present 
translator  has  concluded,  for  once,  to  depart  from  his  usual 
course,    and    play    the    commentator,    by    giving    his    idea    of 
Goethe's  meaning,  which  is  this  :  Faust  admits  that  the  devil 
has  all  the  different  kinds  of  Sodom-apples  which  he  has  just 
enumerated,  gold    that    melts   away   in    the   hand,  glory   that 
vanishes  like  a  meteor,  and  pleasure  that  perishes  in  the  posses. 
Sion.      But  all  these  torments  are  too  insipid  for  Faust's  morbid 
and  mad  hankering  after  the  luxury  of  spiritual  pain.     Show 
me,  he  says,  the  fruit  that  rots  before  one  can  pluck  It,  and  [a 
stin  stronger  expression  of  his  diseased  craving  for  agony]  trees 
that  fade  so  quickly  as  to  be  every  day  just  putting  forth  new 
green,  only  to  tantalize  one  with  perpetual  promise  and  per. 
petual  disappointment. 


»34 


NOTES. 


ram)  was  editor  of  the  Mumg,,,  (a  title  of  Apollo,  «  kader  of 
the  muses,")  and  also  of  the  Genius  of  the  Age.     The  other 
satmcal  allusion,  to  classes  of  notabUities  will,  without  difficulty 
be  guessed  out  by  the  readers. 

«  "  Doubt  is  the  only  rhyme  for  devil,"  in  German. 
^  The  French    translator,  Stapfer,  assigns  as  the    probable 
reason  why  this  scene  alone,  of  the  whole  drama,  should  have 
been  left  m  prose,  «  that  it  might  not  be  said  that  Fauft  wanted 
any  one  of  the  possible  forms  of  style." 

^  Literally  the  ra'ven-ftone. 

«  The  blood^seat,  in  allusion  to  the  old  German  cuftom  of 
tymg  a  woman,  who  was  to.be  beheaded,  into  a  wooden  chair. 

P.  S.     There  is  a  passage  on  page  84,  the  speech  of  Fauft. 
endmg  with  the  lines:  — 

Show  me  the  fruit  that,  ere  It's  plucked,  will  rot. 
And  trees  from  which  new  green  is  daily  peeping, 

Which  seems  to  have  puzded  or  misled  so  much,  not  onJy 
English  translators,   but  even  German  critics,  that  the  present 
translator  has  concluded,  for  once,  to  depart  from  his  usual 
course,   and   play    the    commentator,    by   giving    his    idea   of 
Goethe's  meaning,  which  is  this  :  Faust  admits  that  the  devil 
has  all  the  different  kinds  of  Sodom-apples  which  he  has  just 
enumerated,  gold    that    melts   away   in    the   hand,  gloiy   that 
vanishes  like  a  meteor,  and  pleasure  that  perishes  in  the  posses, 
"on.      But  all  these  torments  are  too  insipid  for  Faust's  morbid 
and  mad  hankering  after  the  luxury^  of  spiritual  pain.     Show 
«ne  he  says,  the  fruit  that  rots  before  one  can  pluck  it,  and  fa 
Still  Stronger  expression  of  his  diseased  craving  for  agony]  trees 
that   fade  so  quickly  as   to   be  every  day  just  putting  forth  new 
green   only  to  tatualize  one  with  perpetual  promise  and  per. 
petual  disappointment. 


|-  Please  iwte  the  reduction  in  prices.     No  further 
reduction  will  he  made  during  the  present  year. 


124  STrcmont  St.,  ISoston, 
November  1,  1865. 

A  List  of  Books 

PUBLISHED     BY 

Messrs.  TICKNOR   AND    FIELDS. 

tfrSr  ljFiSs-''L!^^"um   Cdakgner  which  «m  6.  .e»( 
gratuitously  to  any  address. 

AGASSTZ'S  (Prof.  Louis)  Methods  of  Study  in  Natural 
History.    1vol.    16mo.    $1.50. 

Ar4<^^r7'S  (-Elizabeth  C.  and  Alexander)  Seaside 

^^^^siisfaN^t;Lm^^^^^      Illustrated.     1  vol      8vo.    Just  read, . 

^DD/SOi\rS  (Joseph)  Sir  Roger  deCoverley.   1vol.   16mo. 
AUSTEN'S  (Jane)  Pride  and  Prejudice,  and  Northanger 

Abbey.    1vol.     12mo.     $1.50.  ^  ,    .^ 

Mansfield  Park.     1  vol.     12mo.     $  1  50. 
ZHZZZ  Sense  and  Sensibility,  and  Persuasion.      1  vol. 

12mo.    $  1-50- 

Emma.     1  vol.     12mo.    S 1-50. 

A7M\f'^^   (Kvv.   Dr.)    A^nes  and  the  Little   Key  ;    Or, 
^^'^^^tavi^^Itelnstric^^^^  1  vol-    16.no.    $1.60. 

__  Catharine.     1vol.     16mo.     S1.50. 

JZHH     Bertha  and  her  Baptism.   1vol.    16mo.    $1.50. 

Broadcast.     1vol.     16mo.     $1.50. 

Church  Pastorals:  Hymns  and  Tunes  for  Public 

aud  Social  Worship.    1vol.    8vo.    $1-50.  ^^         rr^     j. 

The  Friends  of  Christ  in  the  New  Testament. 

1  vol"    12mo.     $1.25. 
_______     Christ  a  Friend.     1vol.     12mo.     $1.25. 

_______     The  Communion-Sabbath.  1vol.    12mo.   $1.25. 

A  South-Side  View  of  Slavery.    Fourth  Edition. 


1vol.    16mo.     $1.00. 

The    Sable    Cloud. 

Northern  Comments.    1  vol.    lemo 


A    Southern   Tale  with 
$1.00. 


List  of  Boohs  Published  hy 


^ 


ALDRICH'S  (T.  B  )  Poems,     ^\nv  and  Complete  Edition 

Ivol.     32mo.     Blue  mirt  f;  .1.1.     $150. 

^ZF07?Z)'5  (HKXRY)lV-.ti(al  Works.    1vol.    i6mo.   $1.25, 
ALLSTON'S    (Washington)  Monaldi.      A  Tale,      l  vol 

16mo.     Sl.OO.  ^«       X    >oi. 

ALLI.XGILUrS  (William)  Poems.    1  vol.     32mo.     Blue 
and  gold.    $1.25. 

ALMOST   A    HEROINE.     Bv  the  Author  of  »  Charles 

AucHKSTER,"  etc.     1  vol.     16mo.     $  1.50. 

ANDERSEN'S  (Hans  Christian)  Sand  Hills  of  Jutland. 

1  vol.     16mo.     $  1.26. 

ANGEL   VOICES ;   Or,  Words  of  Counsel  for  Overcoming 

the  World,     With  a  Steel  Engraving.     1  vol.     16mo.     J?  1.50.  ° 

An  entirely  new  and  much  enlarged  edition,  beautifully  printed  on  tinted 
paper,  and  richly  bound.     1  vol.  small  4to.     $3.50. 

ARAGO'S  {Fnx^qois)  Bio-raphies  of  Distinffuished  Scien- 
tific Men.    2  vols.    16mo.    $  2.60. 

ARNOLD'S  (Kkv.   Thomas,  D.D.)   Life  and   Correspond- 
ence.   By  Arthi-r  Penrhtn  Stanlet.    2  vols.    12mo.    $3.60. 

ARNOLD'S  (Matthew)   Poetical   Works.     1   vol.     16mo. 
«$i.oo. 

Essays  in  Criticism.     1vol.     IGmo.     Sl.75. 

ARNOLD'S  (W.  D.)  Oakfield ;  Or,  Fellowship  in  the  East. 
A  Novel.    1  vol.     16mo.    $  1.50.  * 

ATLANTIC    TALES,      A   Selection  of  Stories  from  the 
Atlantic  Monthly.    1  vol.    Small  4to.    $  3.00. 

A  YTO UN S(Frof.  William  Edmonstone)  Bothwell.    A 

Poem.     1  vol.    16mo.     $  1.00. 

A  UNT  EFFIRS   Rhymes   for  Little   Children.     With  24 

flue  Illustrations.     1  vol.     Small  4to.     S  1.00. 

BACONS  (Dklia)  Philosophy  of  Shakespeare's  Plavs  Un- 

fsoo.'  *   ^''"^'^*''*  ^^  Nathaniel    Uawthornk.     1   v'ol.     8vo. 

5^ //.^^TO  (Philip  James)  The  Mystic,  and  other  Poems. 

i  vol.     Ibmo.     75  eta. 

il^.  ^^  ^®=   ^  Colloquial  Satire.     1  vol.     16mo. 

BAILETS  {SAyLVYA.)  Essays  on  the  Formation  and  Publi- 

cation  of  Opinions,  the  Pursuit  of  Truth,  etc.    Ivol.    16mo      1 1  26 

BARTOrs   (Rev.   C.   A.)   Church  and   Con^re^ration '  -  a 
Plea  for  their  Unity.    1  voL    16mo.    $1.25  r>'^t^^^^on,        a 

^^^^™^u4^^^'  ^'^^'^^  ^^^«^)  ^^y-'  -«<i  Ears.    1  VOL 

1  vol7T6mo^'$L6a'    ^^    ^""°«    ^^^"^      ^    ^'^    -^«- 

Freedom  and  War.     Discourses  upon   Topics 

by  the  Times.     1  vn]      lo^^      *  i  tc  ^  *^ 


Suggested  by  the  Times.    1  vol.    l2mo.    $  1.75. 


Ticlcnor  and  Fields. 


BOKER'S  (George  H.)  Plays  and  Poems.  Second  Edition. 
2  vols.    16mo.    $  3.00. 

Poems  of  the  War.     Ivol.     16mo.     $1.50. 

BOSTON  BOOK.     Specimens   of  IVIetropolitan    Literature. 

With  a  fine  Steel  Plate,  designed  by  Billings      Ivol.    12mo.    $1.50. 

BOTTA'S    (Anne    C.   Lynch)    Hand-Book    of  Universal 

Literature.  From  the  Best  and  Latest  Authorities.    1  vol.  12mo.   $  2.00. 

BOWRING'S  (John)  ISIatins  and  Vespers.  With  Hymns 
and  Devotional  Pieces.     Ivol.    32rao.    Blue  and  gold.     $1.25. 

BROOKS'S  (Rev.  C.  T.)  German  Lyrics.  1  vol.  16mo.  S  1.25. 

^/^OiriV/S  (John,  M.D.)  Spare  Hours.    Ivol.  IGmo.  Sl.75. 

Rab  and  his  Friends.     16mo.     Paper.     25  cts. 

Marjorie   Fleming    ("Pet    Marjorie").      16mo. 

Paper,  25  cts. 

BROWNE'S  (Sir  Thomas,  Kt.,  M.  D.)  Religio  Medici, 
a  Letter  to  a  Friend,  Christian  Morals,  Urn-Burial,  and  Other  Papers. 
AVitli  Steel  Portrait.     1  vol.     16mo.     $  2  00. 

BROWNING'S  (Robert)  Poetical  Works.    2  vols.    16mo. 

$  3.00. 
. ..: Men  and  Women.     Ivol.     16mo.     S  1.50. 

. Sordello,     Strafford,     Christmas-Eve     and 

Easter-Day.     1  voL     16mo.     $  1.50. 

Dramatis  Personae.     Ivol.     16mo.    Sl.50. 

. Lvrics  of  Life.     Illustrated.     1  vol.     Small 


4to.     Paper.     50  cents. 

BUCKINGHAM'S   (Joseph   T.)    Personal    Memoirs    and 

Kecnl lections  of  Editorial  Life.     TVith  Portrait.     2  vols.     16mo.     $2.00. 

C^ZF/s/^T  (George  H.)    The  Gentleman.    Ivol.    16mo. 

*  1  25. 

''  CARLETONS"  (Correspondent  of  the  Boston  Journal) 
My  Days  and  Nights  on  the  Battle-Field.    Illustrated.     Ivol.    $1.50. 

Following  the  Flag.     Illustrated.     1  vol. 

$  1.50. 
CARLYLE'S     (Rev.    Dr.    Alexander)     Autobioirraphy. 

Containing  Meniorials  of  the  Men  and  Events  of  his  Times.    Edited  by 
John  Hill  Burton.    1  vol.    12mo.    With  Portrait.    $  1.75. 

C^i2F.S(PiicEBE)  Poems  and  Parodies.    Ivol.   16mo.    $1.00. 
CARY'S  (Alice)  Clovernook  Children.    Illustrated.     1  vol. 

16mo.     $1.25. 

CHANNfNG'S  (Prof.  Edward  T.)  Lectures  on  Rhetoric. 

Read  to  the  Seniors  in  Harvard  College.    1  vol.    16mo.    §1.00. 

CIIANNING'S  (Walter,  M.  D.)  A  Physician's  Vacation; 

Or,  A  Summer  in  Europe.    Ivol.    12mo.    $1.75. 

CHAPEL  LITURGY.  A  Book  of  Common  Prayer.  Ac- 
cordinR  to  the  Use  of  King's  Chapel,  Boston.  1  vol.  8vo.  Sheep,  $  2.00. 
12rao  Edition,  $  1.50. 

CHILD'S  (L.  Maria)  Looking  tovirard  Sunset ;  from  Sour- 
ces New  and  Old,  Original  and  Selected.  1  vol.  small  4to,  elegantly 
printed  and  uniquely  bound,  with  two  vlgnett*  deslimu  on  wood.    33.00. 


List  of  Books  PtihUshed  hy 


CLARK'S  (Rkv.  E.  L.)  Daleth ;  or.  The  Homestead  of  the 

Nations.    lUustrated.    1vol.    8vo.     $4.00. 
CLARKE'S  (M.\RY  Cowdex)  Kit  Barn's  Adventures;  Or, 
The  Ycinis  of  an  Old  Mariner.    Illustrated.    1vol.    16ino.    $1.25. 

CLOUGirS   (Arthur  Hugh)   Poems.     With  Memoir  by 

Ckakles  Eliot  Noktos.    1  vol.    32mo.     Blue  and  gold.     $  1.25. 

CO  ALE'S  (  Willi  am-Edw.vrd,  M.  D.)  Hints  on   Health. 

Third  Edition.     1vol.     ICmo.     S  1.00. 

COMBE'S  (Gkouge)  Constitution  of  Man.     Twenty-Eighth 

American  Edition.     1vol.     16mo.    $1.25. 

CONWA  TS  (11k V.  M.  D.)  The  (Toldcn  Hour.    1  vol.    16mo. 

s  1  00 
CORNIVALL'S  (Barry)  English  Songs  and  Other  Poems. 

Ivol.    16mo.     $1.50. 
Dramatic  Scenes.     1  vol.     16mo.     Sl.50. 

Essays  and  Tales  in  Prose.     2  vols.     16mo. 

With  Portrait.    $  2.50. 

i'COUiyTRY  PARSON'S"   (Tiik)    Recreations.     2  vols. 

IGmo.     $3.50.  1  ., 
._ Leisure  Hours.     1  vol.     16mo. 

$  1.75. 


16mo.     $  1.75. 


ICmo.    $  1.75. 
16mo.    $1.75. 


Graver     Tlioughts.        1    vol. 

Every-day  Philosopher.    1  vol. 

Counsel  and   Comfort.     1  vol. 

Autumn  Holidays.  1vol.  IGmo. 

Graver  Thoughts.    Second  Se- 
ries.   Ivol.    16mo.    $1.75. 

CROSLAND'S  (Mrs.  Newton)  English  Tales  and  Sketches. 

Ivol.    16mo.    $1.25. 
ISIemorable    Women.     With    Illustrations. 

1  vol.    16mo.     $  1.50. 

Lydia :  A  Woman's   Book.     Ivol.     16mo. 


$1.75. 


75  ct9. 

CROSWELL'S  (Rev.  William,  D.  D.)  Poems,  Sacred  and 

Secular.     With  Memoir  and  Notes,  by  Uev.  A.  Cleveland  Coxk,  D.  D., 
and  a  Portrait.    1  vol.    18mo.    $  1.25. 

CC/iT/'3//iV6".S  (Maria  S.)  El  Fureidis.   Ivol.    16mo.   Sl.50. 
The  Lamplighter.     Ivol.     16mo.     $1.75. 

CURIOUS  STORIES  about  Fairies  and  other  Funny 
People.    Illustrated  by  Billings.    1  vol.    16mo.    $  1.25. 

CURTIS' S  (Herbert  Peliiam)  Arabian  Days'  Entertain- 
ments. From  the  German  of  Hacff.  Illustrated  by  IIoppin.  1  vol. 
12mo.    $1.50. 

DANA'S  (Richard  H.,  Jr.)  To  Cuba  and  Back  :  A  Vaca- 
tion Voyage.    Ivol.    16mo.    81.36. 


Ticknor  and  Fields. 


DA  VIS'S  (MRS.  S..M.)  Liie^and  Tunes  of  Sir  Philip  Sidney. 

^^      Oiium-Eater.    With  Portrait.    Ivol.    It  mo.    $1.25. 

__  Bio.n-aphical Essays.  Ivol.  l6mo.  S  1-25. 
__  Miscellaneous  Essays.  Ivol.  16mo.  S  1.2o. 
__  Narrative  and  Miscellaneous  Papers.     2 


....   lemo.    $2.0.^^^^  ^^  ^^^   ^^^^^   ^^^   ^^^^^  j,„g,,t 

'^''^''^:l  ^:Jr^^^  2  vols.     16mo. 

$2.50.        __  The  Caesars.     Ivol.     16mo.     $1-25. 

Historical    and    Critical  Essays.     2  vols. 

~^^^]^  Autobiographic  Sketches.     1  vol.     16mo. 
^^  Essays  on  Philosophical  Writers  and  other 

.en^^l^  Tetrs  t"   r  Young    Man,    and    other 
^^^^-i^  '^Zol!^cll    Essays,   and    other    Papers. 

2  vols.  lemo.   ^^^'^  ^^^^_^^^^  ^f  ,^  English    Opium- 

'^i^^^^Jol^,  and  other  Papers.  2  vols. 
Ji!^l_!!:!!L  The  Avenger,  and  other  Papers.  1  vol. 
^mo^  $L25^   ^^    j^^^.^   ^f   Political   Economy,    and 

other  Papers.^1  ^^^^  from  his  Writings.    1  vol. 


$  4.00. 


D/CKsTs'r'cCHARLEs)  KcWek  Paper,.    2  vols.    12mo 
*'""       Kicholas  Nickleby.     2  vols.     12mo.     «4.00. 
_  Martin  Chuzzlev,it.     2  vols.     12mo.     $4^00. 
_  Old   Curiosity   Shop,   and  Reprinted  Pieces. 


2vol8.    12ino.     $4.00.  rrrZrr.^,,       9    vols 

Barnaby   Rudge,   and   Hard   Times.     2   aoIs. 

^""^li'sketches,  by  Boz.     Ivol.     12mo.     $2.00. 

Oliver  Twist.     Ivol.     12mo.     $2.00. 

Dombcy  and  Son.     2  vols.     12mo.     $4.00. 
ZZZ  David  Copperfield.     2  vols.     12mo.     $4.00. 
Bleak  House.     2  vols.     12mo.     $4.00. 


List  of  Books  Published  by 


DICKENS'S  (Charles)  Pictures  from  Italy,  and  American 

Notes.     1  vol.     12mo.     $  2.00. 

Little  Dorrit.     2  vols.     12mo.     $4.00. 

Christmas  Books.     1vol.     12mo.     S  2.00. 

—  Tale  of  Two  Cities.     1vol.     12mo.     $2.00. 

Great  Expectations.     1vol.     12mo.     $2.00. 

DIXONS  (W.  IlKPwoRTu)  The  Personal  History  of  Lord 

Bacon.    Prom  Unpublished  Documents.    1vol.    12mo.    $1.50. 
DOBELDS  (SYD^v.Y)Voems.    1vol.    Blue  and  gold.    $1.25. 
DOLL  AND  HER  FRIENDS   Illustrated.    1  vol.    75  cts. 
DUFFERfNS   (Lord)  A  Yacht   Voyage  :    Letters  from 

Uigh  Latitudes.    1  vol.    16mo.    $  1.50. 

EDGAR'S    (JoHX    G.)    The    Crusades  and  the   Crusaders. 
Illustrated.    1  vol.    16rao.    $  1.25. 

EMERSON S    i^xj^vn    Waldo)    Essays.      First    Series. 

With  Portrait.     1  vol.     12mo.     $  1.50. 

■ Essays.    Second  Series.    1vol.    12mo.  $1.50. 

Miscellanies.     1vol.     12mo.     $1.50. 

Representative  Men.     1vol.     12mo.     $1.50. 

English  Traits.     1vol.     12mo.     $1.50. 

—  Poems.  With  Portrait.    1vol.    12mo.   $1.50. 

Conduct  of  Life.     1  vol.     12mo.     $1.50. 

«:> ^nT  ^^^^y^-     First   and    Second    Series.     1   vol. 

32mo.    Blue  and  Gold.     .S1.25. 

Poems.  Ivol.    32ino.    Blue  and  Gold.  $1.25. 

EMILY  CHESTER,     l  vol.     12mo.     $1.75. 

ESSAYS  ON  SOCIAL  SUBJECTS    l  vol.    l6mo,  bev- 

elled  and  pit.     $  1.75.  ' 

FARRAR'S  (Mr,^.  John)  Recollections  of  Seventy  Years. 

IvoL    16mo.    $1.50.  ^ 

'FAVORITE  AUTHORS     A  Companion-Book  of  Prose 

ETi^ro^^J'^"^     With  26  St«el  Engravings.    1vol.    Small  4to.    $4.00. 

I' EL  ION'S  (Cornelius  Cox  way)  Familiar  Letters  from 

Lurope.    Ivol.    16mo.     $1.60. 

FROTIIINGHAMS   (RrcriARD)      A  Tribute   to  Tliomas 

Starr  Kincr.     1vol.     16mo.     $1.50. 

FULLER'S  (Thomas)  Good  Thoughts  in  Bad  Times.    1  vol. 

16mo      With  Portrait     $  2.00. 

FURNESSS  (Rev.  W.  H.)  The  Veil  Partly  Lifted  :  Jesus 

Bocomint,'  Visible.    1  vol.     16ino.     .§  1.50. 

GILES'S  (Rev.   Henry)   Illustrations  of  Genius.     1    vol. 
ICrao.    $  1.50. 

GOETHE'S  Faust.      Translated    by    A.    Hayward,   Esq. 

1  vol.     16mo.     $  1.25. 

; — -— Translated  by  Rev.  C.  T.  Brooks. 

1  vol.    16mo.     $  1.25. 


Ticknor  and  Fields. 


GOETHE'S  Correspondence  with  a  Child.    1  vol.    12mo. 

With  Portrait  of  Bkttinb  Bbkstano.     $  1.75. 

__       Wilhelm    Meister.       Translated   by   Tho^J.^^ 
""  Carltle.    With  a  fine  Portrait  of  Goethe,  engraved  for  tins  edition. 

2  vols.     12mo.     S3.50. 

rnnn    COUP  ANY  for  Everv  Dav  in  the  Year.     UnitoT-m 

^^       with-Faiori^A^^^^^^^       With  17  Steel  Plates.  1vol.  Small 4to.  84.00. 

GREENES  (G.  W.)  Historical  View  of  the  American  Revo- 
lution.   1  vol.    16mo.    1.50.  ixr-fU 

GREENWELL'S  (Dora)  The  I*%tience  of  Hope  ^^  ith 
anintrodactioa  by  John  G.  WHiTTiEB.    1vol.    16mo.    ^  l-^^*- 

A  Present  Heaven.    1vol.    16mo.    $  l.OU. 

_J Two  Friends.     1  vol.     16mo.     $  1.00. 

Poems.     1  vol.     16mo.     Nearly  ready. 

GREENWOODS   (Grace)  Greenwood  Leaves.    Second 

Series.     1vol.    12mo.     $1.50.  «.  ,   oe 

Poems.  With  Portrait.  1vol.  l6mo.  S1.25. 

Haps  and  T^Iishaps  of  a  Tour  in  Europe. 

1vol.    12mo.    $1.50.  . 

_  Forest  Tragedy,  and  Other  Tales.     1  vol. 


16mo.    $  1.25. 
75  cts. 


1  vol.    75  ct9. 


S1.25. 


History  of  my  Pets.    Illustrated.    1  vol. 

Recollections  of  my  Childhood.  Illustrated. 

Merrie  England.    Illustrated.  1vol.  16rao. 

Stories  and  Legends  of  Travel  and  His- 
tory.   Illustrated.    1vol.    16mo.    §125. 

Stories  from  Famous  Ballads.    With  Steel 

Frontispiece  and  Engravings.    1vol.    75  cts.  ^      ,c     ^ 

Bonnie  Scotland.  Illustrated.  1  vol.   16ruo. 

HALLAMS  (Arthur  Henry)  Literary  Remains.     1  vol. 

16in0.      $1.75.  ^  -,    n  A^       rrn\n\r 

HAMTLTONS  (Gail)  Country  Lmng  and  Country  imnK- 
ing.    1vol.    16mo.    $2.00. 

Gala-Days.     1vol.    16mo.    S  2.00. 

n  Stumbling-Blocks.     1vol.     l6mo.     S2.00. 

A  New  Atmosphere.     1vol.     l6mo.     S  2.00. 

Skirmishes   and   Sketches.      1    vol.     16mo. 

$•2.00.  ^  ^  ,x 

HARES   (Augustus    Wit-liam  and  'Tulius    Chahlk.) 

Guesses  at  Truth.     With  Portnit.     1vol.    12mo.    $2.00. 
HEWLETT'S  (Hknry  G)  The  Heroes  of  Europe.     With 
16  Illustrationa.    1  vol.    16mo.    $  1-25. 


8 


TJst  of  Bf>oh  Published  by 


HA  WIIWRAE'S  (Natbanikl)  Our  Old  Heme  :  A  Scries 

ol  iiuKlish  hkeiclies.     1vol.     lemo.     $1.50. 

The   Marble  Faun ;   or,  The  Romance  of 

Monte  Ikni.     2  vols.     16mo.     $3.00. 

The  8oarlet  Letter.    1vol.    16mo.    $1.50. 


16mo.     $3.00. 


The  House  of  the  Seven  Gables.     1  vol. 

16mo.     $  1.50. 

Twice-Told  Tales.  With  Portrait.    2  vols. 
The  Snow-Image,  and  other  Twice -Told 

Tales.    1  Tol.     16mo.     $  1.50. 

The  Blithedale  Romance.  1  vol.  16mo.  $  1.50. 

Mosses  from  an  Old  Manse.    2  vols.    1 6mo. 


$3.00. 


True  Stories  from  History  and  Biography. 

Illustrated.     1  vol.     16mo.     S  1.26.  -       o     i     j 

The  Wonder-Book,  for  Girls   and   Boys. 

Illustrated.     1vol.    16mo.     $1.25. 
Tanglewood     Tales.      Illustrated.      1    vol. 

16mo.      $1.25. 
— — Twice -Told  Tales.      Ktw  and  Ccmplete 

Edition.     With  Portrait.     2  vols.     32n)o.     Blue  and  gold.     $2.75. 

Work?.     New  and  Complete  Edition  on 

Tinted  Paper.     14  vols.     16mo.     825.00. 

HILLARD'S  (George  S.)    Six  Months  in  Italy.     1  vol. 

16mo.    $  1.76.  "^ 

Dangers  and  Duties  of  the  Mercantile  Profes- 
sion.   8vo.    Paper.    25centa. 

Selections    from    the    Writinffs    of    Walter 


Savage  Landor.     1vol.     16mo.     81.00.    Large  Paper,   $2.50 

HIGGJNSON'S  (T.  W.)  Out-Door  Papers.     1  vol.     ICmo. 

$1.50. 

HODiiON'S  (Major  W.  S.  R.)  A  Soldier's  Life  in  India. 

1  vol.    16mo.    $  1.50. 

HOLMES'S  (Olivkr  Wendell,  M.  D.)  Poetical  Works. 

1  vol.    16mo.    With  Portrait.    $  1.50. 

Songs  in  Many  Keys.     1vol.     16mo.     $1.50. 

Poems.     Complete.     1  vol.     32mo.     Blue  and 

gold.     With  New  Portrait.     $  1.25. 

Poems.     Complete.     1    vol.     16mo.     Cabinet 

Edition.     With  New  Portrait.     $  1.75. 

Humorous  Poems.     Illustrated.     1  vol.     Small 


4to.    Paper,  50  cents. 
Astraea:    The    Balance    of   Illusions.      1    vol. 

16mo,     30  cts. 

The  Autocrat  of  the  Breakfast-Table.     Blus- 


trated  by  IIoppin.     1  vol.     IGmo,  $  1.75  ;  8vo,  $3.50. 

The  Professor  at  the  Breakfast-Table.     With 

the  Story  of  Iris.      1  vol.     16mo,  $  1.76  ;  8vo,  $  3.50. 


Ticknor  and  Fields. 


HOLMES'S    (Oliver    Wexdell,    M.  D.)  Elsie  Venner: 

A  Romance  of  Destiny.  2  vols.  16mo.  $3.00.  ^  ,,  j-  i 
Currents    and    Counter-Currents    in    Medical 

Science,  with  other  Essays.    1vol.    16mo.    $1.75.  ^  _.    ,.     , 

__________   Border   Lines  in  some   Provinces  of  Medical 

Science.    1vol.     16mo.    75  cts.  ^  ^       .n 

Soundings  from  the  Atlantic.     1  vol.     16mo. 

ffnr)7)'i'^(TH0MAs)  Memorials.     Edited  by  his  Daughter, 

^^^    wfth  i  Preface  and^Notes  by  his  Sou.    lUustrated  with  his  own  Sketches. 
2  vols.     16mo.     $3.00.  .      ,    rr,  1    i-  -D^ 

TTnT^ACF''^  Odes     An  English  Metrical  Translation,    by 

^^^^t£.S,L  MahL.  W^U.  NoTes  and  a  Life  of  Horace.  1  vol.  32mo. 
Blue  and  gold.     $  1.25.  ^  t>     i.      i 

nn^PITAL  TRANSPORTS  :  A  Memoir  of  the  Embarka- 

HO:^I  1  I  ^^^.//Tk^L  Wounded  from  the  Peninsula  of  Virginia,  in  the 
Cummer'  of  1862.  '  ComTS  and  Published  at  the  Request  of  the  San. 
tory  Commission.    1vol.    16mo.    $1.00. 

TinTT^PUOTD    FRIENDS:     A   Book    for    all     Seasons. 

^^^^^^ufmdai;  on  S^el.    Uruform  with  » Favorite  Authors."    1vol. 

HOTr^'S' (Mrs'- Julia  Ward)  A  Trip  to  Cuba.     1  vol. 

^"  IWn  Flowers.     1vol.     16mo.     Sl.OO. 

Words  for  the  Hour.     1  vol.     16mo.     S  1.00. 

"  ~    The  Worid's  Own.     1  vol.     16mo.     75  cts. 

NO  WITTS  (William)  Land,  Labor,  and  Gold ;  Or,  Two 

^  Years   in  Victoria:  Witi  Visits  to  Sydney  and  Van  Diemen's  Land. 

____^!!!!lTbo)^' Adventures  in  the  Wilds  of  Australia. 

'  Illustrated.     1vol.     16mo.     $1.25.        ^    t,     , 

miFELANUS   (Christophkr)    The   Art  of  Brolongmg 

^^^   L^T  Edltelby^EKASMCS  W..SOS,  i.  R-S.    1  vol     16mo.    $1.25. 

HUNTS   (Leigh)   Poetical  Works.     With  Portrait  after 

IlAYTEK.     2  vols.     32mo.     Blue  and  gold.     $2.50. 
rrrrnMr  s:'  S  TThomas^  Tom  Brown's  School-Days  at  Rugby. 
^^^?fol     fei     $1^0       8vo  Edition,  lUustrated  by  L.ko.  Q.   M^, 

___^  Tom  Brown  at  Oxford.     With  Portrait  on  Steel 

of  the  Author.    2  vols.    16mo.     $3.00.  ^     rrn      t 

The  Scourln^r  of  the  WTiite  Horse;  Or,  The  Long 

-^^tion  Ramble  of\  London  Cler..    Illustrated  by  RiCHAKn  Dov.k. 

1vol.    16mo.    $1.25.  j     o     '^^ 
rTVMJ\r*<    OF     THE    AGES.      First    and    Second    benes. 
^^^    BlttraYelwifh  sf;i  Vignettes,  after  Tuh.ek.    Each  in  1  vol.    12mo. 
$2.50^^voMition^$3^^^     ^^^.^^     ^^^.^^         ^^..^^     g^^^^ 

Plate.    1vol.    12mo.    $2.50. 
JAMES'S  rilENHY)   Substance  and  Shadow;  Or,  Morality 
and  ReligTonTn  thL  Relation  to  Life  :  An  Essay  upon  the  Phys.«  of 
Creation.    1  vol.    12mo.    $  2.00. 


10 


List  of  Books  Published  hj 


JAMESON'S  (Mrs.)  Sisters  of  Charity,  Catholic  and  Prot- 

estant,  and  tJie  Communion  of  Labor.     1  vol.     IGmo.    $1.00. 

Characteristics  of  Women.     With  isteel  Por- 
trait.   Ivol.    32mo.    Blue  and  gold.    $125. 

T>\^Ty  of  an  Ennuyee.     With  Steel  Portrait. 

1  vol.    32mo.    Blue  and  gold.    $  1.25. 

• — — Sketches  of  Art,  Literature,  and  Character. 

With  Steel  Portrait    1vol.    32mo.    Blue  and  gold.    $1.25. 

, Loves  of  the  Poets.       With  Steel    Portrait. 

1  vol.    32mo.    Blue  and  gold.     $  1.25. 

Studies   and   Stories.     With  Steel  Portrait 

1  vol.    32mo.     Blue  and  gold.     $  1.25. 

Memoirs  of  the  Early  Italian  Painters.    With 

Steel  Portrait.     1  vol.    32mo.    Blue  and  gold.     $  1.25. 

; Legends  of  the  Madonna.     With  Steel  Por- 
trait.   1  vol.    32mo.    Blue  and  gold.    $  1.25. 

— — Sacred    and    Legendary    Art.       With    Steel 

Portrait.    2  vols.    32mo.    Blue  and  gold.    S  2  50. 

Legends  of  the  Monastic  Orders. 

Portrait.    1  vol.    32mo.   Blue  and  gold.    §  1.25. 

JEUIWLIJ'S  (Douglas)  \yit.     1  vol.     iSrao.     $1.25. 
Life  and  Remains.    With  Portrait.    1 


With  Steel 


16mo.     $  1.50. 

JOHNSON'S   (Rosa   Vkktnek)    Poems. 


vol. 
With    Portrait. 


1  vol.    16mo.    $  1.25. 
JUDSON'S  (Mas.  E.mily  C.)  Alderbrook.     With  Portrait. 


Complete  Kdition.    1vol.    16m'o.    $1.75. 

-    Kathayan    Slave,   and   other   Papers. 
75  ct8.  ^ 

My  Two  Sisters. 


16mo. 


1    vol. 


1  vol.     16mo.     60  cts. 


KEMBLE'S  (Frances  Anne)  Poems.    Enlarqed  Edition. 

1  vol.    16mo.    $  1.25.  ^ 

KINGSTON'S  (W.  H.  G.)  Ernest  Bracebridge  :  A  Story  of 
School-Days.    With  16  Illustrations.    1vol.    16mo.    §1.25. 

KfNGSLE rs  (CiiARLKs)  Toems.     1vol.     16mo.     $1.25. 

— — Andromeda.     1  vol.     16mo.     75  cts. 

■ Amyas  Leigh.     1vol.     12mo.     $1.75. 

Two  Years  Ago.     1  vol.     12mo.     $  1.75. 

■ ^'r  Walter  Raleigh  and  his  Time,  with  other 

Papers.    1vol.    12mo.    $1.50. 

New  Mi.scellanlc.s.     1vol.     12mo.     $1.25. 

'^ZT^^  Glaucus ;    Or,  The   Wonders  of  the   Shore. 

1  vol.    16nio.     75  cts. 


—- -The  Heroes;    Or,  Greek  Fairy-Tales  for  my 

Children.    lUustrated  by  the  Author.    1vol.    ICmo:    $1.26.  ^ 


Tichior  and  Fields. 


11 


KINGSLETS  (Henry)  The  Recollections  of  Geoflfry  Ham- 

lyn.    1  vol.    12mo.    $  1.75. 

Ravenshoe.    1vol.    12mo.    $1.75. 

Austin  Elliot.     1vol.     12mo.     $1.75. 

The  Hillyars  and  the  Burtons.     A  Story  of 

Two  Families.    1vol.    r2mo.    81.75. 
LABOR   AND  LOVE.     A  Tale  of  English  Life.     1  vol. 

16mo.    75  cts.  „r  \    t  •  i  ». 

TAWRENCE'S   (Mrs.  MarCxAREtte  Woods)  Light  on 

^^^^  thi  Dark  River  \  Or,  Memorials  of  Mrs.  ^^^^^^'^ ^tiT^'^'^l'l 
Bioniiry  in  Turkey.  With  an  Introiluction  by  Uev.  A.  S.  Storks,  ana  a 
Portrait.     1vol.    12mo.     $1.50.  i    -d      i       • 

TFK'S  (Eliza  Buckmixster)  Memoir  of  Joseph  Buckmin- 

^^^    steV  D  D    and  of  his  Son,  Rev.>seph  Stevens  Buckmuist.r.    With  a 

fine  Portrait  of  the  elder  Buckminster.    1vol.    12mo.     $1.50. 

Florence:  The  Parish  Orphan.    1vol.    16mo.    75  cts. 

Parthonia ;  Or,  The  Last  Days  of  Paganism.     1  vol. 

16mo.    $1.25. 
Life  of  Jean  Paul.     Preceded  by  his  Autobiography. 

1  vol.  r2mo,  with  Portrait.    S2.00.  ^ 

LESLIE'S   (Charles    Robert,  R.  A.)    Autobiographical 

^^         RtoUectLs.     Edited,  with  a  Prefat.,ry  ^-ay  -  Leslie  as^an  Artis^ 
and  Selections  from  his  Correspondence,  by  Tom  Taylor,  ±-sq. 
fiue  Portrait.    1  vol.     12mo.     $  1.50. 

r  FPT  4  7^  7)'^'   C Fanny)   Lake  House.     A  Romance.     -L/ans- 
^^lated  from  the  German\yNATHAMELGHEK.E.    1vol.    16mo     Sl.OO. 

•   TVWI S" S  CDr  Dio^  The  New  Gymnastics  for  Men,  Women, 
^^^^dChildre;.    Wit^SOOIllustrationi    1vol.    12mo.    $1.50. 

AVeak  Lun^^s,  and  How  to  Make  them  Strong ;  Or, 

" Diseases  of  the  Organs  of  the  Chest,  with  their  H«nje-Treatment  by  the 

AlovSient^Cure.    Profusely  Illustrated.    1vol.    12mo.    $1.50. 

LILIAN.     A  Romance.     1vol.     16mo.     S  1.25. 

T1TTTV    ANNA:  A  Story  for   Pleasant  Little   Children. 

^^^Br^i^vTrknitedfroLhe  German.    1  voL    Illustrated     Sl.OO. 

inrKlJ ARTS  (J.  G.)  Ancient  Spanish  Ballads,  Historical 
^^^^\.;iRomanl^  With  LgraphicalNoW  and  Por^^^^^    1vol.    16mo. 

%  1  00 

lONGFELLOWS  (Rev.  Samuel)  and  Johnson's  (Rev. 

SA.a-EL)  A  Book  of  UymoB,  for  Public  and  Private  Devotion.    1  voL 
16mo.     $  1-25. 

Hymns   of  the   Spirit.     1   vol.     16mo. 

___!l:!!l_____  and  HiGGiNSON's    (T.  W.)   Tlialatta  : 

a  Book  for  the  Seaside.     1  voL     16mo.     $100. 

X(9.YG™i:LOir5(lI.W.)  Poems.  With  Portrait.  2  vols. 
16mo.  J_3-00-__  p^^tical  Works.  Complete.  With  Por- 
trait.   Cabinet  Edition.    2  vols.    16mo.    $3.50. 


12 


List  of  Booh  Published  hy 


LONGFELLOW'S   (H.  W.)    Prose    Work?.        Complete. 

With  Portrait.    Cabinet  Edition.    2  vols.    16mo.    $3.^0. 

Poetical  Works.    Complete.     ^V^ith  Por- 
trait.   Blue  and  (jold  Edition.    2  vols.    32mo.    $2.75. 

Prose  Works.      Complete.      With  Po> 

trait.    Blue  and  gold  Edition.    2  vols.    32mo.     $2.75. 

Household  Poems.     Illustrated.     1  vol. 
Small  4to.     Paper.    60  cents. 

The    Wayside   Inn,  and    other   Poems. 

1vol.    I61110.    $1.50. 

The  Courtship  of  Miles  Standish.     1  vol. 

16mo.     $1.25. 

The  Song  of  Hiawatha.     1  vol.     16mo. 

$1.50.     Larye  Paper,  $2.50. 

1    vol.      1 6mo. 


$  1.50. 


—  The    Golden    Lejrend. 


Evangeline.     I  vol.     16mo.     $1.25. 


— —  Hyperion.   1vol.    16mo.   $1.50. 

— Outre-Mer.      1vol.     16mo.     $1.50. 

^  Kavanagh.     1vol.     16mo.     $1.25. 

The  Seaside   and  the   Fireside.     1  vol. 

16mo.    $1.00. 

LOWELL'S  (Rev.  Dr.   Charles)   Sermons,  Chiefly  Prac- 
tical.   1  vol.    12mo.    $1.50.  /      *«». 

Occasional    Sermons.     With  Portrait.     1    vol. 


Complete.       Cabinet  Edition. 


12mo.     $  1.50. 

LOWELL'S  (Mrs.  Anna  C.)  Thoughts  on  the  Education  of 

Girld.     1  vol.     16mo.     30  eta. 

Seed-Grain  for  Thought  and  Discussion.     2  vols 

16rao.    $2.50. 

LO  WELL'S  (James  Russell)  Poems.    With  Portrait      2 

vols.    16mo.    $2.75. 

Poetical  Works. 

2  vols.    16mo.    $3.50. 

_  Poetical  Works.      Complete.     Blue   and   rrold 

2  vols.    32mo.     $2.75.  fo*^*^- 

Fireside  Travels.     1vol.     16mo.     $1.50. 

A  Fable  for  Critics.     1  vol.     16mo.     75  cts. 

The  Biglow  Papers.     1  vol.     16mo.     $  1.25. 

The  Vision  of  Sir  Launfal.    1vol.    IGmo.    75  cts. 

MACKENZIE'S  (Kenneth  R.  H.,  F.  S.  A  )  The  Marvel- 
lous Adventures  and  Rare  Conceits  of  Master  Tyll  OwlK'Iass.  Adorned 
Tvul'^Temr  $?ro    "^  ""^  ^'^""'"«  Devices,  by  Auked  Ckowq",,! 

^^^^f/^^^'^' ^J^^OW-BOX.     Illustrated.      1  vol.     l6mo. 

^'^'"'^l^.^'ll^JZi''^'   ('^^^    ^-P--)'    Thought,   of. 


Tichnor  and  Fields, 


13 


MINN'S  (Horace)  A  Few  Thoughts  for  a  Young  Man 

when  Entering  upon  Life.    1vol.    16mo.     50  cts. 

_  Twelve  Sermons,  delivered  at  Antloch   College. 

1  vol.    r2mo.     $1.50.  V       -c"     I,  A 

MANNS  (Mrs.  Horace)  Christianity  in  the  Kitchen.    A 

Physiological  Cook-Book.     1  vol.     16mo.     $  1.00. 


The  Flower  People.     With  Illustrations. 

Square  16mo.    75  cts. 


1  vol. 
With 


1    vol. 


M ASSET'S  (Gerald)  Poetical  Works.     Complete. 

a  Steel  Portrait.    1vol.    32mo.    Blue  and  gold.    $1.2a. 
MARGRET    HOWTH :     A   Story    of   To-day. 

16mo.      »1.25.  mi        IT  f 

APrnNTOCICS  (Captain  Francis  L.)  The  Voyage  ot 

the  "Fox"  in  the  Arctic  Seas.     A  Narrative  of  the  Discovery  of  the 

Fate  of  Sir  .Tohn  Franklin  and  his  Companions.    Preface  by  Sir  Rod- 

eu.?rMubchison,F.R.S.  With  Maps  and  Illustrations.    1vol.    12mo. 
$1.50. 

MEREDITH'S  (Owen)  [Robert  Bulwer  Lytton]  Po- 
etical Works, -containing  The  Wanderer,  Clytemnestra,  etc.  2  vols. 
32mo.    Blue  and  gold.     $  2.50. 

Lucile.    1vol.   32mo.   Blue  and  gold.   $1.25, 

MILL'S  (John  Stuart)  On  Liberty.    1vol.    IGmo.    $1.25. 
MITFORD'S  (Mary  Russell)   Our  Village.    Illustrated. 

2  vols.     16mo.     $  3.00. 

Atherton,  and  other  Tales.     With  a  fine  Poi^ 

trait  after  Lccas.     1  vol.     16mo.     $  1.50. 


Palissy,    of 
2  vols. '  lemo. 


MORLETS  (Henry)   The  Life  of  Bernard 

Saintes.    His  Labors  and  Discoveries  in  Art  and  Science. 
$2.00. 

MO  TJTER  WELL'S  (William)  Poetical  Works.    Complete. 

With  a  Memoir  by^AMES  McConecuv,  Esq.,  and  Portrait.     1   voL 
32mo.     Blue  and  gold.     $  1.25. 

Minstrelsy,  Ancient  and  i\Iodern.    With 

an  Historical  Introduction  and  Notes.     2  vols.    16mo.     $2.00. 

MOW  ATT  S  (Anna  Cora)  Autobiography  of  an  Actress ; 

Or,  Eight  Years  on  the  stage.     With  Portrait.     1  voL     16mo.     $1.50. 

'  Mimic  Life  ;  Or,  Before  and  Behind  the  Curtain. 

'  a  Series  of  Narratives.    1vol.    16mo.    $1.50. 

Twin  Roses.  A  Narrative.    1vol.  16mo.  $1.00. 

Plays  •  —  Armand  ;  Or,  The  Peer  and  the  Peas- 

a^tl^Fashiont  Or,LifeinNewYork.    1  voL     16mo.    S  LOO. 

MURDOCH  (James  E.)  and  Russell's  (William)  Or- 

thophonv  -,  Or,  The  Cultivation  of  the  Human  Voice  in  Elocution.  \S  ith 
a  Supplement  on  Purity  of  Tone  by  Prof.  G.  J.  Webb.  1  vol.  12mo. 
$  1 .00. 

3fO'LOCii'.S  (Dinah  Maria)  Poems.    1  vol.    16mo.   $1.25. 
A'E^X'S  (John)  True  Womanhood.    A  Novel.    1vol.    12mo. 

$1.60. 


14 


List  of  Books  Published  by 


NORTON'S  (Charles  Eliot)  Notes  of  Travel  and  Study 

in  Italy.    1vol.    16nio.    )n«1.25.  -  ^ 

OTIS'S  (Mas.  IlAiutisoN-  Gkay)  The  Barclays  of  Boston. 

Ivol.     12mo.     $1.25.  ^ 

PARSONS'S    (Prof.    Theopiiilus)    A  Memoir  of  Chief 

Justice  Theophilus  Parsons,  with  Notices  of  Some  of  his  Contemporaries. 
>V  ith  a  Portrait  by  Scuokf,  after  Stcakt.    1  vol.    12mo.    $  1.75. 

PARSONS' S   (Thomas  William)  Poems.     1  vol.     12mo. 
PATMORE'S  (Coventry)   The  Angel  in  the  House.     A 

Poem.     In  Two  Parts.     I.   The  Betrothal ;  II.   The  Espousals.     2  vols. 
Ibmo.     Each,  $  1.25. 

Faithful  Forever.    An  Episode  of"  The  An^el 

in  the  House."     1  vol.     16mo.     $  1.25. 

PERCIVAVS   (James  Gates)    Poetical   Works.     Newly 

collected.  With  a  Biographic  Sketch  and  authentic  Portrait,  2  vols. 
32ino.    Blue  and  gold.    $  2.75. 

PHILLIPS'S  (George  S.)  [January  Searle]  The  Gvp- 

!?*^3  ""l^l'T  I^anes'  Dike.  A  Story  of  Uedgcside  Life  in  England  hi  tiie 
\  ear  1865.     1vol.    12mo.   $1.75. 

PlOZZrs   (Mrs.    Thrale)    Autobionrraphv,   Letters,   and 

Literary  Remains.    Edited,  with  Notes  and  an  Introductory  Account  of 
her  Life  and  W  ritings,  by  A.  IIatward,  Esq.,  Q.  C.   1  vol.   12mo.   $  1.75. 
PIPER'S  (11.  N.,  M.  D.)  Operative  Surgery.     Illustrated  by 
over  1,900  Engravings.    1  vol.    8vo.    $  5.50. 

PRIOR'S   (James)   IMemoir  of  the   Life  and  Character  of 

Edmund  Burke,  with  Specimens  of  his  Poetry  and  Letters,  and  an  Esti- 
mate of  his  Genius  and  Talents  comi)ared  with  those  of  his  great  Cod- 
temporaries.    With  Portrait.     2  vols.     16mo.     $  3.00 

PRESCOTT  (George  B.)  The  History,  Theory,  and  Prac- 
tice of  the  Electric  Telegraph.  With  100  Engravings.  New  and  en- 
larged  edition.     1  vol.     12mo.     $  2.50. 

PRESCOTTS  (William  H.)  Life.  By  George  Tickxor. 

1  vol  4to.  Illustrated.  $10.00.  Library  Edition.  8vo.  $3.00. 
Popular  Edition.     12mo.     $2.00. 

PRESCOTT  (Harriet  E.)   The  Amber  God?,  and  other 

Tales.    1vol.     IGmo.     $1.76. 

Azarian.     1vol.     16mo.     S  L25. 

PROCTER'S   (Adelaide    A.)  Poetical  Works.     Complete 
1  vol.    32mo.    Blue  and  gold.    $  1.25. 


— ■ Poetical  Works.      Complete.     1  vol.     16mo 

Cabinet  Edition.    $1.75. 

PUTNAM'S  (Mary  Lowell)  The  Record  of  an  Obscure 

Man.    1  vol.    16mo.    75  cts. 

The  Tragedy  of  Errors.    1vol.     16mo.    75  cts. 

— -  The  Tragedy  of  Success.    1  vol.    IGrao.     75  cts. 

QUINCrS  (Josiah  Phillips)  Lyteria:  a  Dramatic  Poem. 

1  vol.     l6mo.     50  cts. 

— Charicles:  a  Dramatic  Poem.  1  vol.  16rao.  50  cts. 


Ticknor  and  Fields. 


15 


OUINCrS    (Edmund)    Wensley.      A     Story   without    a 
^  M..ral.    1vol.    16ino.    Pai)er,  50  cts. ;  Cloth,  75  cts. 

RAMSAY'S   (E.  B.,   M.  A.,   LL.D.,    F.  R.  S.  E.,   Dean    of 

Edinburgh)  Reminiscences  of  Scottish  Life   and   Character.     With  an 
American  Preface.    1vol.    16mo.     $1.50  „t.  ■.    oo 

RAINBOWS  FOR  CHILDREN.     1vol.    16mo.    A\ith28 

Illustrations.    $1.00. 

RA  TS  (Isaac,  M.D.)  Mental  Hygiene.    1  vol.   16mo.  %  1.50. 
i^ii:^D£:'.S(CuARLE8)PegWoffington.    1vol.  16mo.  $1.25. 

.  Christie  Johnstone.     1vol.     16mo.     $1.25. 

Clouds  and  Sunshine.     1  vol.     16mo.     $  1.25. 

Never  too  Late  to  Mend.     2  vols.    16mo.    $2.50. 

White  Lies.     1vol.     16mo.     $1.50. 

Pro|)ria  Qua  Maribus,  and  the  Box-Tunnel.     1 

vol.    16mo.    Paper.    25  cts. 
REID'S  (Mayne)  Tales  for  Boys. 

First  Series. 

Each  in  one  volume,  16mo,  fully  illustrated.    Price,  $  1.25. 

The  Pesert  Home  ;  or,  The  Adventures    The  Young  Yagers :    A  Sequel  to  the 

of  a  Family  Lost  in  the  Wilderness.     I     Bush-Boys. 
The  F.irest  Exiles  ;  or,  The  Perils  of  a  ,  The  Plant-Hunters. 

rnuvian  family  iu  the  Wilds  of  ^^^  -  J^j^^^^^l^l^-^  v,y,,ein  theDark. 

Th'rBoy'nunters  -,   or.  Adventures  in  I  Odd  People  :  A  Description  of  Various 

Search  ofa  Wild  Bu4lo.  I      Pinp"lar  Races  of  Men    ^Cheap  Edx- 

The   Young  Voyageurs  ;  or,  The  Boy       <ion,60cts.) 


Hunters  in  the  North. 


Bruin  •,   or,  The  Grand  Bear-IIunt. 


ThrS-Borr  oTThe  History  and  '  The  C  iff- Climbers  •,  or.  The  Lone  Home 
Adventures  of'a  ciipe  Farmer  and  his  j     in  the  Himalayas. 
Family  in  the  WUd  Karoos  of  Southern  j 
Africa.  ' 

Second  Series. 

Each  in  one  volume,  12mo,  elegantly  illustrated.     Price,  S  1.50. 

The  Ocean  Waifs.     A  Story  of  Adven-  ;  The  Boy  Slaves  ;  or  Life  in  the   Dee- 

tuie  by  Land  and  Sea.  i      ^rt.  ^^,^  ^  ,  ^^  ,  » 

nrvVTATIONS    OF    MOTHER    JL LIANA,    an    An- 
^^  ^  ^^hole  of  Norwich  in  the  Days  of  Edward  the  Third.    1  vol.    16mo. 
Cloth,  bevelled  boards  and  red  edges.     $  1.25. 

RICHTER'S  (Jkan  Paul  Friedrich)  Titan  :  A  Romance. 

Translated  by  CH.VBLEST.  Brooks.   With  Portrait.   2vo1b.   12mo.   $4.00. 
Flower,    Fruit,    and    Thorn    Pieces.     2   vols. 

12mo.    A  New  Edition.    $  3.50. 
Campaner  Thai,  and   Other  Writings.     1  vol. 

12mo.    $  2.00.  ,  «    -r,  1 
Levana ;    Or,    The    Doctrine    of   Education. 

1  voL    12mo.     $  2.00.  „         t^        t.     .  Tk  A 

Hesperus;   or,  Fortv-five  Dog-Post- Days.      A 

Bi^phy.    Translated  by  COAULES  T.  Brooks.  ^  vols.    12mo.    $4.00. 


-  Life  of.     See  Lee  (Mrs.  E.  B.). 


16 


List  of  Books  Published  by 


ROBERTSON'S    (the     late    Frederick    W.)     Sermons 

Preached  at  Trinity  Chapel,  Brighton,  EnRland.     In  Five  Volumes  • 

vo?    $T6o'"S'^;  *  ^rr'"'''  -^"'^  "'^  '^^"^'^  »  »*«'°«'^-    l^mo.    Sa?h 
vol.,  f  i.&o.    Sold  separately  or  in  set*. 

Le(;tures  and   Addresses  on  Literary  and 

Social  Topics.    1vol.    12mo.    $1.50.  ^ 

; — — : I^ife  and  Letters.     2  vols.     12mo.     Uni- 
form in  size  with  the  Sermons.    $  4.00. 

SAADI'S   Gulistan  or  Rose  Garden.     Translated  bv  Frav- 

cis  Gladwin.    With  a  Preface  by  R.  W.  Emerson.    1  vol.  16mo.  $  2  50. 

SALA'S  (George  Augustus)  A  Journey  Due  North-  Be- 
ing Notes  of  a  Residence  in  Russia.    1  vol.    16mo     $  1  25 
SARGENrsJEvKs)  Songs  of  the  Sea,  and  other  Poems. 

SARGENTS  (Wi^THnoP)  The  Life  and  Career  of  Major 
SAXE'S  (JoHx  G.)  Humorous  and  Satirical  Poems      With 

Portrait.     1vol.     16mo.     Sl.OO.  »»iiu 

p  r.^^^  Money-Kinnr,   and   other   Poems.     With  New 

Portrait.     1vol.     16mo.     $1.00.  »»itui>t!W 

I^o^^'sTso.   ^^^  ^°  preceding  volumes  bound  in  one. 

—  Clever    Stories   of   Manv   Nations.      Rendered   in 

Rhj-me.    1  vol.  smalUto.    Illustrated.    $3.50.  ^«»"«^rea    m 

-—  Poetical  AV'orks.     Complete.     With  New  Portrait 

Ivol.    16mo.    Cabinet  Edition.    $175.  Portrait. 

— T^I""^  SX.f Tf Jf-  ^^^^  ^^-  ^^^-^ 

'''•  -^^i^^^^Z^f  Si^^  -  ^^^Tt  with  Sketches 
SEARLE  (January).    See  Phillips,  Georgf  S 
SEVEN  LITTLE  SISTERS  (The)  that  live  in  the  Round 
Ban  that  Floats  in  the  Air.    WithSllustritions.    1  vol.    W  So 

SHAKESPEARE    SONNETS.      A    new    and    beautiful 
edition,  printed  on  tinted  paper,  and  handBomely  bound.  1  vol  sill  4t^ 

SHELLEY    MEMORIALS.      From    Authentic    Sources. 
Edited  by  Ladt  Shelley.    1vol.    16mo.    $1.25.  sources. 

SMILE S'S  (Samuel)  The  Life  of  George  Stephenson   Rail 
Self-Help.     With  Illustrations  of  Character  and 


-¥^.''lT'tJ^:Z':t' '■   '™'-"-"^''«-  and  Tool- 


Tichnor  and  Fields. 


17 


c^orr'S  rSiR  Walter)  The  Waver! cy  Novels,    lllmirated 

^^''^I;ll!L\^'.t^n      5oU.     lemo.      $  1.25  per  yoL 

^  The  following  is  the  order  of  puhlication,  and  the  Novels  w.11  be  sold 
sepaScly  or  in  sets,  at  the  option  of  purchasers. 

Waveriey.    2  vols. 
Guv  Mannering.    2  vols. 
The  Antiquary.     2  vols, 
lloh  Roy.    2  vols. 


Old  Mortality.    2  vols. 
Black  Dwarf.  \  2  vols. 

Ltf-'end  of  Montrose.    > 
Ilc;irt  of  Mid-Lothian.    2  vo  8. 
Bride  of  Lammermoor.    2  vols. 
Ivanhoe.     2  vols. 
Tlie  Monastery.    2  vols. 
The  Abbot.     2  vols. 
Keiiil worth.     2  vols. 

The  Pirate.    2  vols. 

The  Fortunes  of  N  igel.    2  vols 

rovpxil  of  the  Peak.     2  vols 


St.  Ronan's  Well.     2  vols. 

Redgauntlet.    2  vols. 

The  Betrothed.  i  2  vols 

The  Highland  "Widow.    J 

The  Talisman. 

Two  Drovers. 

My  Aunt  Margaret's  Mirror. 

The  Tapeptriod  Chamber. 

The  Laird's  Jock. 

Woodstock.    2  vols. 

The  Fair  Maid  of  Perth.    2  vols. 

Anne  of  Geierstein.    2  vols. 

Count  Robert  of  Paris.    2  vols. 

The  Surpeon's  Daughter. 

Castle  Danper(ius.  > 2  vols. 

Index  and  Glossary. 


2  vols. 


•|^ 


— r"i;^.JS.    6vi     16«,o.    $7.50.    TheS«Be.    6  vo.„me=  bound  m  3. 

,e«.  $«o.  ^^    LocKHART.    Unifom  ^ith  the 


Novels.    IUu6txat;.d.    9  vols.    16mo.    $11.25. 

Ivanhoe.     A  Romance.  J/o//^^«;/^^''ton.     lUus- 


"^^Ind  elegantly  bound.     1vol.    16mo.     3  2.00. 

Poems.     Uniform  with  the  Novels.     9  vols.     16mo. 


"with  Frontispiece  by  BiLLiKGS.    1vol.    16ino.    *  LUU. 
53/;r/rS  (Alexander)   A  Life  Drama,  and  other  Poems, 
ivol.    16mo.    Sl.OO.  ic     ^     «1  no 
City  Poems.   With  Portrait    Ivol.    16mo.   Sl.OO. 

Edwin  of  Deira.     Ivol.     16mo.    $1.00. 

.    Alfred    Hagart's   Household.      A   Tale.     1    vol. 

ICmo.    Paper,  75  cents;  Cloth,  Sl.OO.  r,,,t  reodv 

A  Summer  in  Skye.     Ivol.    16mo.    ;/«•"' ^f«2/- 

^MITTP^  rGoiDWiN)  Letter  to  a  Whig  Member  of  the 
^^'^^^iLL&':^^c4^  16-.    Paper.    2    cents. 

SilZ/ra'.^  (HORACE  and  Ja^^)  Rnieet^^^^^^^^^^^^^ 

The  New  Theatrum  ^o^tarurD.    ■\\  'th  Preface  and  > 

..wr;/^ix::.MVTH<;::ii;  ■  or,  m  conflict  of  opin. 


18 


List  of  Books  Published  hy 


STOOD  ARU  Sin.  II.)  Vo^ras.     1vol.     16mo.     75  cte. 

Songs  of  Summer.     1  vol.     16mo.     Sl.OO. 

^v ^r~  ^^^ ventures  in   Fairy  Land.     A  Book  fnr 

STRANGE     SURP RISING    ADVENTURES  of   the 
^rOir^VS-  (Mrs.  Harrikt  Reecher)  Agnes  of  Sorrento. 

An  Italian  Romance.    1vol.    l2mo.    $1.75.    ^  ^uxremo. 

T^  Til.^sTJ5'^  ^"''  ^^*^^-     ^  ^°^^"^^"  Story. 

l2mo.  M7^   ^'''"''  ^^^'°-     ^^^^^    ^/*««.^anr/.     1  vol. 
The  Minister's  Wooing.     1  vol.     12mo.     S  1.75. 

^^™m '^^^'^  ^^^-  ^-^  ^^^^^^"^^  '"  Calyrlon.  1  vol.  16mo. 

SWORD   AND    GOWN      A  Novel.      By  the  Author    of 
"GuyL-vin-st-me."     1vol.    16mo.     « 1.00  ^umor    oi 

TABERNACLE    (The).      A    Collection   of  Hvmn-Tunes 

«n,i  pI'^'     /•  ^^  t'leLse  of  Choirs,  Sin-inp-Sch.>ol»,  Musical  S-cieties 
MuLc^rNiSn'  ""VnV^'  "  Conn.lete  Treatise 'on  the  Pdncip l.'^f 

^^/.:yj//i  ^7'^    Treatise    on    Epidemic   Cholera.      Translated 
fTow  J  Tt  '\'-  ^-  ^'"^'•'•^^'  ^^-  ^-     ^^'^h  an  Append  x  by  a 

s  L25    ^^''''^^^)  Po^"^^  o^  the  Orient.     1  vol.     16mo. 
Poems  of  Home  and  Travel.  1  vol.  16mo.  %  1.25- 

^  The  Poet*s  Journal.     1vol.     16mo.     Sl.25. 

— -—-  Poetical    Works.      New  and    Complete    Edition. 

got    %  I'.'ir ""  "'^  *'""'■''' '"  '^'  ^^^^"^-    ^  ^°'-  ^^oi^-    «'"«  «'«' 

^'^  ^^i^vf '^'i^^'^'^Tr^  ^,'""P  ^'^"  Artevelde.   ^  New  Edition. 
1  vol.    32mf).    Blut- and  >,'()lil.     $1.25 


Notes  from  Life.      1vol.      IHmo.     $125. 


^..^..v..,  I,, ,1.1  ijiiK-..      1  vol.      lomo.      5>  I  2.^ 
^^^wm;7f '^    tV-""^^'''    •'<"""•"•    ^^'"--k'-      Complete. 

AVith  Portrait.     Library  Elitinn.    3  vols.     Ifi.no.      $4  50 

r^^, ^   Poetical  Works.      Complet*'.     ^Virh  Portrait 

ana  Three  St*^l  Plates.     Farrimjford  Edition.    Tinted  paper,  bevelled 
boards,  and  gilt  top.    2  vols.    $  5.00.  ^    '  "*^^'^"^ 

-— Poetical  Works.      One    Volume   Earrinnford 

EiUion.    C).-npleta      With  Portrait  and  Steel  Plat j.    S4.00. 


Tichnor  and  Fields. 


19 


Poetical  Works.     Complete.  W  ith  Portrait. 

"  '^M^^^TEdition.   2  vols.    16mo.    S^.50.  w'.th  Portrait. 

Poetical  Works.     Complete.     With  i  ortrait. 

■  '^ii^T^ti^ld  Edition.    2  vols.    32mo.    S2.50.       „        p  .. 

Poetical  Works.     Complete.     With  Portrait. 

Pocket  Edition.    1vol.    18mo.     S1.50, 

Son.rs  for  all  Seasons.     Illustrated.     1  vol. 

;^^^"^Eno<^^  ivol.     IGmo.    With  Six 

_~^"^'  Ch  Arden,  &c.     1vol.    32mo.    Blue  and 

aoid.    •^•^       ^^  ^^^,^„.     niustratcd  Edition.     Printed 

_!^"l"^"E:;ocirrrden.   Cheap  Edition.   Paper  covers. 
."^^'o^nsTom.     AVith  Thirty-two  Illustrations. 
"^^^^^^The'Princess.  AMedley.  1vol.  I6mo.$1.00. 
In    Memoriam.       1    vol.      16mo.       §1-25. 


Holiday  Edition.    1vol.     4to.     $3.00. 

.  Idyls  of  the  King.     1vol.     l6mo.     Sl-o. 
IdvlsoftheKing.    Illustrated  Edition.    AN  ith 
iiii^t^I^^^llustrations.    1  vol.    "ito.    $  5.00. 
r^i^i^r^^RosE)  Poems.     1vol.     ^'^^^'     ^'f''  ^^ 

T7f 4  r/vEiM  rS  (W.  M.)  Ballads.     1vol.     16mo.     Sl.OO. 
T^iSf^^  (hI-I^)  Walden;  Or,  Life  in  the  Woods. 
1  vol.   l6mo^  M^5C.^  ^^  ^^^  ^^^^^^^  ^^^  ^i^^^i^,,  Ki^ers. 

IZi^  Excursions  in  Field  and  Forest.    With  Po. 

!!l^\he  Maine  Woods.     1vol.    16mo.     S1.50. 

Cape  Cod.     1  vol.     16mo.     S1.50. 
Letters.     1vol.     l6mo.     $1-50. 

gantly  priuteil  and  bound.    $10-00.  i      o    ^     ftqftO 

The  same.  Library  Edition.    1vol.   8vo.   $3.00. 
Popular  Edition.    1vol.    12ino.    $2.00. 


20 


List  of  Boohs  PvMlshed  hy 


TOCQUEVILLE'S  (Alexis  de)  Memoirs,  Letters,  and 
Remains.  Translated  from  the  French  of  Gustavb  dk  Beaumont. 
2  vols.    16mo.     $  3.00. 

TRELA  WNY'S  (E.  J.)  Recollections  of  the  Last  Days  of 
Shelley  and  Byron.    1  vol.    16mo.    §  1.25. 

TUCKERMAN'S    (Henry   Theodore)    Poems.      1    vol. 

16mo.     %  1.00. 

TUCKERMAN'S  (Frederick  Goddard)  Poems.     1  vol 

16mo.     $1.50. 

TYNDALUS  (Prof.  John,  F.R.  S.)  The  Glaciers  of  the 

Alps.  Beinp  a  Narrative  of  Excursions  and  Ascents,  an  Account  of  the 
Origin  and  Phenomena  of  Glaciers,  and  an  Erposition  of  tlie  Physical 
Principles  to  which  tliey  are  related.  "With  numerous  Illustrations. 
1vol.     12nio.     $1.75. 

UPHAM'S  (Hon.  Charles  W.)  Life,  Explorations,  and 

Public  Services  of  John  C.  Fremont.  With  Portrait  and  Illustrations. 
1  vol.    16mo.     ■$  1.25. 

WALKEB,'S  (Jamks,  D.  D.)  Sermons  Preached  in  Harvard 

ChapeL     1  vol.      12mo.     $  1.75. 

WARREN'S  (John  C,  M.D.)  Etherization  and  Chloroform; 
with  Surgical  Remarks.    1  vol.    12mo.    50  cts. 

Constipation  :  Its  Prevention  and  Cure.     1  vol. 


16mo.    10  cts. 

The  Preservation  of  Health,  with  Remarks  on 

Constipation,  Old  Age,  etc.    1  vol.    16mo.    50  cts. 

WALLIS'S  (S.  T.)   Spain :  Her  Listitutious,    Politics,   and 

Public  Men.     1  vol.    16mo.     $  1.25. 

WHITHER' S  (John  G.)  Poetical  Works.   Complete.  With 

Portrait.     Cabinet  Edition.    2  vols.     16mo.     $  3.50. 

_ — . —  Poetical  Works.    Complete.    With  Portrait. 

Blue  and  gold  Edition.    2  vols.     32mo.     |  2.75. 

In   War-Time,   and  other  Poems.      1   vol. 


16mo.    Cloth,  $  1.25. 

National  Lyrics. 


Illustrated.    1  vol.     Small 
1  vol.     16mo.     75  cts. 


4to.    Paper.    60  cts. 

Songs  of  Labor. 

-       Tlie  Chapel  of  the  Hermits,  and  other  Poems. 

1  vol.    16mo.     75  cts. 

The   Panorama,  and  other  Poems.     1  vol. 


16mo.    75  cts. 

Home    Ballads   and   Poems.     1  vol.     16mo. 

$1.00. 

Old  Portraits  and  Modern  Sketches.     1  vol. 

16mo.    $1.25. 

Leaves  from  Marjraret  Smith's  Journal  in  the 

Province  of  Massachusetts  Bay,  1678-9.     1vol.    16mo.     $1.26. 

^ —  Literary  Recreations  and  Miscellanies.    1  vol. 

Idmo.      $  1.50. 


Ticknor  and  Fields. 


21 


--;Zj:Z^^7^^  from 

^^^^^i';Sifs.Svoi.    lem^o    ^^•^^^;^g^,.,,^eonnectedwith 

"""^'""ess^s  and  Reviews.     2  vols.     l6mo.     S  3.00. 
-:lIlZwXgton  and  the  Revolution.    1vol.   IBmo. 

20  cts.  T^>>  A  Practical    Guide  to 

"■'"'■^'l^iL"i^'Som;t^  i^v- !-"•  *"!■    ^.„ 

"■f^l^lrivo..  8V0.  ^^■^'■^'■""-'^^^tZtJ.  With  Bio- 

^^"-"""lohn  Brent.     1vol.     l"™""     f  f '  s  1  50 
The  Canoe  and  the  Saddle.     1vol.     l6mo. 
*  '•^°-  Life  in  .he  Open  K.,  and  other  J>apers. 

;^r;^r^;^S,or.   steel,  and   a„   Kn^™vms  o    Mt.  Ka 

ShbyF.B.CB™cH    l""'-/';;-  *,,,„oi„  of  William 

^sr/JoKKE'^'Meditations  on  Beath  and  EW^-    Trans- 

^^"^^^^rL  t  Gorman  b,  *'«»™"  ''"J-.^;  \^^^^^^,  l)„tieS. 

' Meditations  on  L'te  f  "'I '"^^^^I'ia.  ,sm,.  » 1.^.0. 


CABINET  EDITIONS  OF  THE  POETS. 

Messrs  Ticknor  and  Fiei^ds  are  publishing  a  new  edition  of  the 
wr,t.n?8  of  popular  Poets,  called  the  Cabinet  Edition.  It  is  handsomely 
pr.ured  ..„  laid  tir.tcd  paper,  a,..!  elegantly  bound  in  vellum  cloth  with  gilt 
top.     1  Jie  following  aro  now  published  :  — 

Lonqfel/mr's  Poems.     2  vols.     $  3.50. 

Tenni/son's  Poems.    2  vols.    $  3.50. 

Whiltier's  Poems.     2  \o\T.     $  3.. 50. 
Holmes's  Poems.     1vol.     S  1.75. 
Saxe's  Poems.     1  vol.     $  1.75. 
LoweWs  Poems.     2  vols.     $  3.50. 
Lonfifellou/s  Prose  Works.     2  vols 
Adelaide  Procter's  Poems.     1  vol. 


S  3.50. 
$  1.75. 


The  following  volumes  will  be  added  to  the  scries  the  present  season  :  - 


Bw/nrd  Taylor's  Poems.  1  vol. 

Gerald  Masset/'s  Poems.  1  vol. 

Owen  Meredith's  Poems.  2  vols. 

"          Lucile,  1  vol. 

Airs.  Jameson's  Works.  10  vols. 
S  1.75  each  vol. 


S  1.75. 
S 1.75. 

S  3.50. 
$  1.75. 

Sold  in  sets  or  separately. 


COMPANION  POETS  FOR  THE  PEOPLE. 

In    Illustrated    "V-oliames. 

MESSRS.  TICKNOR  AND  FIELDS  have  besrun  a  new  .eries  of  poetical 
volumes  mtonded  to  comprise  the  favorite  poems  of  popular  An,crica„  and 
Ennl.sh  loots  issued  in  a  form  at  once  elegant,  portable  and  cheap.  Er.rh 
volume  will  contain  about  100  pajres,  and  from  twelve  to  twentv  illu^fratious, 
and  w.ll  be  sold  at  the  low  price  of  50  cents.  The  following  volumes  are  now 
reidy  :  — 

HOUSEHOr.D  poems.  By  riENRT  W.  LONGFELLOW.  With 
Fifteen  Illustrations  by  John  Gilbert,  Birkel  Foster,  and  John.  Absolon. 
Pnce,  50  cents. 

SONGS  FOR  AI.I.  SEASOXS.  By  ALFRED  Tennyson  With 
Thirteen  III,.strations  by  Maclise,  Creswick,  Eytinge,  Barry,  and  other.. 
Paper,  50  cents. 

NATIONAI.  LYRICS.  Dy  John  G.  Wiiittier.  With  Twelve 
Illustrations  by  White,  Barry,  and  Fenn.     Paper,  50  cents. 

LYRICS    OP    LIFE.       By    Robert    Brownikg.     With    Twelve 

niustrations  by  S.  Eytinge.     Paper,  50  cent.. 
HVMOnOVS     POEMS.       By    OLIVER    WENDELL     HOLMES.      With 

Twelve  Illustrations  by  S.  Eytinge,  Jr.    Paper,  50  centa. 


BOOKS  PUBLISHED  IN  BLUE  AND  GOLD, 


BY 


TICKNOR     AND     FIELDS. 


Lonafdlow's  Poems.     2  vols.     S2.-5. 
Loivifcllows  Prose.     2  vols.  ^S  2.  ^5. 
Whildefs  Poems.     2  vols.     3 2.. a. 
Uigh  Hunt's  Poems.     2  vols.     S  2.50. 
Tennyson's  Poems.     2  vols.     S2.oO. 
Gerald  Massey's  Poems.    $  1.25. 
Lowell's  Poeyns.     2  vols      §2'^: 
Percival's  Poems.     2  vols.    §2.^5. 
MotherweWs  Poems.     $1.25. 

Owen  Meredith's  Poems.     2  vols.     $2.50. 

Owen  Meredith's  Lucile.    S 1 .25. 

Sydney  Dobell's  Poems.     $1.25. 

Bowring's  Matins  and  Ve^^pers.    $1.25. 

-Sr"TrS;ed'b;-TnKO.OHK  M.kx™^    Sl.25. 

Mrs.  Jameson's  Character  f.cs  of  Women      $1.25. 

Mrs.  Jameson-s  Loves  of  the  Poets.    $  1.25. 

Mrs.  Jameson's  Diarti-     $  1--5- 

Mrs.  Jameson's  Sketches  of  Art.     S  l-^s. 

Mrs.  Jameson's  legends  of  the  Madom^a^    %  1.25. 

Mrs.  Jameson's  Italian  P^inla-s.     %\..5. 

Afr!    Inmeson's  Studies  and  Stones.     »l./o. 

Mr.'  jZe"ons  Sacred  and  Legendary  Art.     2  vols     S2.50. 

MrL  jZeson's  Legends  of  the  Monastic  Orders.     S  1 .25. 

Saxe's  Poems.     $1.25. 

Clough's  Poems.     $1.25. 

llolrne/:^  Poema.    $1.25. 

Adelaide  Procter's  Poems.     $l-25- 
Tador's  Philip  Van  Artevdde.     %\.ib. 

lllthorne's  Twice-Told  Tales      2  vols.     S2.... 
Bayard  Taylor's  Poems      $1.25 

Tennyson^  Enoch  Arden,  S^x.    $  1.00. 

Holmes's  Autocrat.     S1.25. 

Emerson  s  Poems.     $  1-25. 

Emerson's  Essays.     $  1.25. 

Aldrich's  Poems.     $l.oO. 


PERIODICALS 


PUBLISHED    BY 


TICKNOR    AND     FIELDS 


THE    NORTH    AMERICAN    REVIEW; 

Edited  by  James  Russell  Lowell  and  Charles  Eliot  Norton. 
Published  Quarterly.    Now  in  its  Fifty-first  Volume. 

Te  RMS.  —  $  6.09  a  year.    Single  Numbers  $  1.50. 

•^*  Postage  paid  by  the  Publishtr*. 


THE    ATLANTIC   MONTHLY; 

A  Magazine  of  Literature,  Science,  Art,  and  Politics. 

Published  on  the  20th  of  each  month.  It  is  now  in  it8  Sixteenth  Volume, 
and  has  attained  a  circulation  and  prosperity  never  equalled  by  any  American 
Magazine  of  its  ciasa. 

Terms.  — Single  Subscriptions,  $4.00  a  year.  Single  numbers,  35  cents. 
Liberal  reduction  to  Clubs. 

The  postage  on  the  Atlantic  (24  centa  a  year)  must  be  paid  at  the 
oflice  where  it  is  received. 


OUR   YOUNG   FOLKS; 

An  Illustrated  Magazine  for  Boys  and  Girls. 

Edited  by  J.  T.  Trowbridge,  Gail  Hamilton,  and  Lucy  Larcom. 

Published  on  the  20th  of  each  month.  Our  YOUNO  Folks  was  begun  in 
January,  18G5.  and  it."*  success  has  been  rapid  and  complete.  Its  literary 
matter  is  of  the  first  class,  and  it  is  filled  with  illustrations  drawn  by  the  best 
artists  and  engraved  in  a  superior  manner. 

Terms. —  Single  subscriptions,  $2.00  a  year.  Single  numbers,  20  cents. 
Liberal  reduction  to  Clubs. 

The  Postage  on  Our  Youno  Folks  (12  cents  a  year)  must  be  paid  at  the 
otfice  where  it  ii  received. 

TICKNOR  AND  FIELDS,  PnhU^hen^, 

124  Tremont  Street,  Boston. 


COLUMBIA   UNIVERSITY   LIBRARIES 

This  book  is  due  on  the  date  indicated  below,  or  at  thf» 
expiration  of  a  definite  period  after  the  date  of  borrowing,  as 
provided  by  the  library  rules  or  by  special  arrangement  with 
the  Librarian  in  charge. 

DATE  BORROWCO 

OATE  DOE 

OATE  BORROWED 

OATC  DUE 

,  .  V    »                  0        I  »'  •  ■ 

\i           ')     "J 

C28  (lt48)  TOOM 

G07 


B791 


ilf{||||itHfffffH'"''"*''>!^fH!iH(!ffiJliflllWll!W^ 


'IHitltKirt 


,HM*U»»ltHJi(fiH)rtMtilMintntttlitf(»IHf 


7rT^~»T^fiirT 


:  ,M!  (fjji      HI        nil    111  I 
"Wi     I    111       k  I H ! lii 


iiiifili:>i 


t 

ii 


Irtii'JfA 


^MiUlUlHiHlliliUIIHlUulllNHlHfintllnittiltniiUilMlU 


'     ., .  I'l ;  .fii.ili !  !      liill  I  ii'l   HHli  1     illttlMHif: 

^  '^■''  It'allil  !ii!i  !  Ii'   i! !!!!  !fi  li  if  !i.iil  i  »  if  If  Milfc  a;«:-  ^ : 


■  ■* 
; 


l-i   '.' 


IK/" 


Mm 


h 


pftf-     rvi^ 


r     :'  fi 


.,fl  i-...I-.lil,l.,-f" 


,„„.,.,.. „<l<,i 


'liUiU/'iHt  .''i-f;uM.i-i!t:;:';.,.tii'i}ii},iui 


!^*HfUltU'M»*J'!!i^'fffHii'"'''nt'''J^^'*'!''i'-i« 


